Turncoat
by DakotaLyon
Summary: The rebel's know her as William Washington. But her real name is Dakota Pierce and her job is to help the rebel's defeat the Republic once and for all and bring back the United States. Unfortunately, she gets an unexpected visitor and everything comes to a crashing halt. Dakota is taken to Philadelphia and is reunited with an old friend. The General himself. OC story-branch out!
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing my story to read! This story came to me awhile ago and I've been working on it, on again, off again. But now I have finally got the first part done and I really hope you all enjoy it. I have decided that this story will consist of four different parts but I will make sure that each part in jammed packed and long. This is not my first fanfic so hopefully there are less mistakes and it is more enjoyable to read. Of course, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. Thanks again!_**

**_-DL_**

**_P.S. no, the character is not exactly named after my username per say. Obviously, Dakota is not my real name but it is my favorite so I said, to hell with it, my OC is gonna have the same first name! Anyways, onto the story._**

***9 Years after the blackout***

The bell above the door rang and Dakota Pierce looked up from repairing the old beaten up book she had been tending to for weeks. She was sitting in the back room of her small bookstore she owned in a small town in Pennsylvania near the Susquehanna River. She had not been the owner of this bookstore before the black out but now it was hers. And it was the perfect place for a rebel base of operations. All around her were maps and plans laid out in different places. Dakota had basically laid out all these strategies herself because she had experience from the several years she served in the Marines before the blackout.

Dakota got up from her chair and walked out of the musty back room and into the small front of the store that was crowded with book shelves. She straightened out her black V-neck long sleeve and brushed off her dark jeans. Her black combat boots made muffled thumps on the hardwood floors. She pushed her thick dark curls off her shoulders as she weaved in and out of the shelves. She reached the front desk that had an old fashioned cash register on it and stood next to it. A wide smile spread across her face when she saw the familiar faces in front of her.

"Scott! Adam! It's good to see you guys!" She walked over to the two men and hugged them both. Scott was an older man, late forties, graying hair and built like a brick wall. Adam was around her age, mid-thirties, short blonde hair, handsome with a medium build.

"It's good to see you too." Adam said with a smile that was infectious.

"What, um, brings you by?" Dakota asked them, not wanting to know the answer. They usually didn't visit unless they came to pick up the next battle strategies or... something bad happened. Dakota hadn't been expecting them so they must be here for the latter reason.

"We uh, have some bad news." Adam said. Dakota nodded her head and walked over to the front door and turned the "open" sign to "closed."

"Not up here." She led them into the back room. She motioned for them to all sit at the table small and they did. Dakota sat as well and pushed the abused book to the side, folding her hands in front of her.

"Alright. Fill me in." So they did. They each took turns telling her of the battle that was waging all over the republic. They spoke of the different rebel camps that had been wiped out by militia and how many men had been injured or brutally killed in action. They finished and Dakota felt sick. She had not seen these attacks coming and she felt somewhat responsible for it all. The rebel camps relied on her to help them fight against the militia, not be defeated by it. But none of the rebels knew who she was. Adam and Scott were the only two who knew who she actually was. The only thing the rebels knew was that they were helped out by someone named William Washington. Some rebels didn't like that it was secret and many asked questions but the fewer that knew about her, the less information the militia could learn. "I feel horrible. This is my fault." She covered her mouth with her hand.

"No, Kody, it isn't. No one could have anticipated these attacks." Adam reassured. She raised her head. She nodded and cleared her throat.

"We're guessing the Generals are getting restless and just decided to send out a whole bunch of troops to find as many camps as they could and eliminate them."

"I see." She said quietly, her mind buzzing with a million thoughts at once. She stood and walked over to the large map that was hanging on a reversible chalk board. She grabbed a marker and crossed off several parts on the map. "The marks i just made are all of the camps that Miles and Ba..." Dakota cleared her throat and corrected herself, "Generals Matheson and Monroe have wiped out thus far. That's far too many. That also means we are down by 100 men." Dakota pinched the bridge of her nose. "Do we have any idea where they plan on striking next?"

"No. The attacks have been random really." Scott replied

"Word is that even the Generals themselves are going around and looking at the destroyed camps." Adam added.

"Why would they even bother to do that?" Dakota asked not taking her eyes off of the map.

"Survivors means information." Dakota sighed but before she could speak the bell from the front door rang. Everyone in the room went still. Her heart sped up slightly. "I thought you turned the sign to 'close'." Scott whispered. She turned her head to look at him.

"I did." Dakota quietly, cautiously walked over to the far corner of the room. She lifted a peep hole cover and peered through it. Militia men stood in the front of the store. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She covered the hole again and moved to roll up maps and other documents. "You all need to leave. Now." Dakota whispered hastily. She flipped the chalk board over to the empty side.

"Why? What's wrong?" Adam, now standing, asked. Dakota stopped what she was doing and looked at her old friend.

"They're here."

"Militia? But... thats impossible. There is no way they could know!" Scott exclaimed quietly.

"It doesnt matter now. You both need to get out of here." She said shoving documents and papers into different drawers.

"We are not leaving you." Dakota stopped and looked at both men sternly.

"I'm not asking you." Their faces were filled with defiance but they knew she was right. They were just trying to be good friends.

"You know what they do to rebel's, Kody." Adam said placing a hand on her arm. Dakota sighed and nodded slowly.

"I know but having just one of us is better than having all of us." Dakota walked over to a random spot on the floor and lifted up a dirty old rug. There was a trap door and she crouched down and opened the hatch. "This will lead you to a safe place." Scott jumped down first and then Adam. They were crouched down in the dank tunnel and looked back up at her. Their eyes were filled with sadness.

"Are you sure?" She smiled at her friends.

"Yes." She was about to close the hatch but stopped. "Wait." The two men looked back up at her. "Don't come looking for me. That's an order." Then she closed the door before they could protest. Dakota locked the hatch and replaced the rug. Dakota walked back over to the table and gathered as many documents as she could and shoved them into more desk drawers.

"Hello?" She heard a male voice call from the store front.

"Yes! I'll be right with you!" Dakota took a deep breath and walked out into the store. She walked to her counter and stood behind it. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at the face that stared back at her. "Miles." She breathed out softly. He furrowed his brows at her and she watched his eyes searched her face for an answer. The creases in his face vanished as recognition set in.

"Dakota Pierce." He smirked as he said her name and it sent chills up her spin. Not the good kind either. She looked past him and saw that there were four militia men standing behind him. Her heart beat incredibly fast against her rib cage. She looked back at Miles. He was intimidating, no doubt. He was the General after all. It hadn't always been that way though. "God. It's been years. Your hair is so long." His eyes trailed the close to elbow length curls down and then back up again, his eyes focusing on her face. Dakota felt her face flush.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant but really she was trying not to shake in her boots. He still wore the smirk on his face and she watched his eyes scan her. Possibly checking to see if she was armed... or not.

"I couldn't stop by and say hello to an old military buddy?"

"Well, since you didn't recognize me almost instantly and having your little posse here, armed with guns and swords, with you... I'm going to say no." Dakota said sarcastically, eying the pistols by all the soldiers hips. Miles' grin widened and he placed both hands flat on the counter and leaned forward. Dakota didn't move back and kept her eyes locked with his.

"A very helpful source told us that you've been running a little rebel base of operations out of this establishment." His eyes scanned the small space filled with rows of books. They focused back on her when he spoke again."Funny because I never figured you to be one to side with such low ranks."

"Just remember that I used to be the one in charge, Matheson."

"Oh I haven't."

Dakota raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Do you have any evidence to support this claim of rebel activity?" He lifted one of his hands off of the counter and twirled a piece of her curly hair between his fingers. He looked down at the soft tendril that he had twined around his rough calloused fingers.

"I will in about five seconds." At that, the militia men spread out and began knocking books off of shelves and tearing things off of the walls. She saw some head to the back. Dakota jerked away from Miles and went to follow the men.

"Wait! What are you doing?! What gives you the right..." a strong grip on her upper arm stopped her and was spun around, forced to face Miles. He grabbed her under her chin and pulled her face close to his.

"I do." He growled.

"Sir, we found something." Miles looked up at the voice that called to him from the back room.

"Come with me." He said yanking Dakota alongside him with a deathly grip. Dakota thought he might just yank her arm right out of its socket. He brought her to a halt in front of the doorway to the back room. Dakota's heart sank when she saw what the militia men had done. The once neat and tidy room now looked like a tornado had ripped through it; drawers were thrown haphazardly onto the floor, papers scattered everywhere, the map on the chalk board was showing. They had, of course, found the rebel papers that she had not had the time to properly hide. Dakota noticed that one of the soldiers had her old camouflage military uniform in his hands. Miles pushed her into the room and then took the uniform from the soldiers hands. His eyes examined the uniform before they slowly looked up at her.

"Sentimental much?" Dakota clenched her jaw and swallowed hard.

"Oh don't tell me I'm the only one who thinks about the old days." Although she knew the Miles Matheson that stood in front of her was not the same person she had known before the blackout. Before he had the chance to answer, one of the militia men spoke up.

"Sir, we've found plans, maps and strategies of the rebels."

"Well, there's your evidence. Do you want a chance to explain?" He said throwing the uniform on the ground.

"Not really, no." Dakota suddenly saw stars and her jaw was filled with excrutial pain. She rose a hand up to her face and gingerly touched the now burning red flesh that was her cheek.

"You should talk to me with more respect." Dakota tasted copper in her mouth and spat blood on the ground.

"Sorry. I don't respect murderers." She saw him raise his hand to slap her again and Dakota cringed, waiting for the blow.

"Sir!" Miles turned his head to look at the soldier. Dakota opened her eyes and saw that the soldier had found the passageway. "An escape route." Miles grabbed Dakota by the front of her shirt and looked at her with rage.

"Let anybody out recently?" Dakota shook her head. The soldiers broke the lock and opened the door.

"Sir, there are fresh foot prints in the dirt." Damn. Fate was not on her side today.

"Why don't you just tell the goddamn truth?" She waited for him to hit her again but he didn't. He just barked orders at his men. "Cuff her and put her with the rest. You two stay here and gather everything up." Two soldiers came over and grabbed Dakota, cuffed her hands behind her back and literally drug her out of the store. When they got outside, there was a covered wagon waiting there, horses in the front. A small crowd had formed and many of the faces were so familiar to Dakota. She didn't meet any of their gazes. The militia men opened the doors and told her to get into the back of the wagon. She sat down on the hard wooden bench and looked around at all of the rebel faces surrounding her. They had no idea she was the one who had screwed everything up. The militia men closed the back doors and they were surrounded by darkness.

* * *

The militia had not picked up any more prisoners after Dakota. They all rode in silence as the wagon made its bumpy way to, no doubt, Philadelphia. Dakota wasn't stupid when it came to what her penalty would be. What _all_ of their penalty will most likely be. They executed most rebels after they've tortured them for information. Dakota knew that she had a small chance of survival though and if it was given to her, she would take it.

With that, Dakota leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

**_*Two Years before the blackout*_**

_"Alright, Ladies! Give me fifty push ups now!" The group of men, Marines, in front of her dropped down and all started to do push ups on command. Some struggled and some were still going strong. The wind blew her chin length curls in front of her face and she impatiently tucked them behind her ears. She paced back and forth watching all of them with green, scrutinizing eyes. "Walker! you call that a push up? If you don't pick it up I'm going to make you do fifty more! You too Thompson! It's like a bunch of teenage girls who don't want to get a little sweaty. " _

_"Bitch." Someone muttered under their breath. Dakota turned around and looked down at the man doing his push ups. She crouched down in front of him and he looked up at her, holding himself up. _

_"What was that?"_

_"Don't you think its a little hypocritical to be calling us girls, being that you are one?" he said sarcastically. _

_"You say that, yet even though I am a woman, I'm still twice the man you will ever be. Now finish your push ups and get the hell out of my sight." That earned a few chuckles and even "Ohh's" from some of the men._

_"Oh, sweetheart, your going to wish you'd never said that." Dakota smiled in his face._

_"I highly doubt that." He gave her an angry look and started his exercises again. Dakota stood up and saw that two men were already done. "See there? Two excellent role models for all of you to look up to." She crossed her arms and smirked at the two sergeants who were also her good friends. "Matheson. Monroe. You are both dismissed." They both saluted her and gave her big grins before turning and walking away. Dakota smiled to herself and shook her head as she watched them walk away, side by side._

The wagon came to an abrupt stop that brought Dakota out of her dream. Well, it was more of a memory. She opened her eyes and it was still dark in the wagon. She could hear bustling on the other side of the wooden prison walls. The wagon doors were unlocked and they were swung open, letting in bright sunlight. They had reached Philadelphia.

* * *

As General Monroe looked out the window onto the streets of Philadelphia, he noticed the new prisoners had arrived. He himself had just gotten back from inspecting the destroyed rebel camps, interrogating some people himself. He got better results doing it himself anyways. He watched as the wagon stop and soldiers surrounded the back doors. They unlocked them and opened them. One by one the rebel prisoners fell out of the wagon, hands cuffed and escorted to the prison by soldiers. The doors to the room opened and Miles strode in. Monroe didn't need to turn his head to see who it was because he'd recognize his friends footsteps anywhere.

"How did it go?"

Miles scoffed as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "It was a pain in my ass and I really don't see why you want us to go..."

"Because if it is not done, then there will be serious threats out there to the Republic. Besides, I like the results I get when interrogating myself." Monroe still stared down at the prisoners.

"Well, there wasn't really anything serious, Bass. We got rid of at least a dozen of their camps." Miles informed and Monroe turned his head and looked at his friend.

"You say that now but there will always be more. What are you smiling about?"

"You wont believe who's a rebel now." Monroe was about to ask but Miles held his hand up and pointed to the window. "Just look." Monroe gave him a suspicious look but eventually looked back out the window. Just as he did, he saw a familiar head a dark brown hair escorted out of the wagon. Her wrists were cuffed and she was being led away by two soldiers. He watched the familiar slim figure disappeared not into the prison where all of the other rebels were being taken; no, the soldiers led her into the very building he was standing in.

* * *

So many soldiers bombarded Dakota once she got out of the wagon. They quickly led her into a different building than the other rebels were being taken to. They walked down a set of cement stairs and into a basement that was filled with prison cells. They took off her handcuffs and threw, literally threw, her into a small prison cell. Dakota lay there on the hard, dank floor for a moment, dazed out of her mind. Then she found the strength to get herself into a sitting position. She looked around and the only thing in the cell was a small wooden cot. "Now, where do they expect me to go to the bathroom?" She joked to herself.

Dakota hoisted herself from off of the floor and sat on the edge of the cot. The only thing on the cot was an old ratty blanket. Dakota sighed and exhaustion suddenly hit her all at once. She lay down on her side and rested her head on her arm. She closed her eyes and sleep whisked her away from the horrible things that were to come.

* * *

Dakota woke to the sound of someone banging something on the bars of her cell. When she opened her eyes, Miles stood on the other side of the barred door with a pistol in his hand, staring at her. "Do you mind?" was all she said. He holstered his gun and took keys from his pocket.

"Get up." he ordered. Dakota rolled on her back and then propped herself up with her arms and looked at Miles through the bars.

"It's already time for my execution?" She asked in a mocking tone.

"It can be." He said challenging her tone of voice slightly.

"Well, if your here, then it must be for something bad." He unlocked the door and it swung open.

"Kody, I think our definitions of 'bad' are slightly different." Dakota scoffed and glared at him. "Stand up. Hands out." He said walking into the cell. Dakota did as she was told and held her hands out in front of her and he cuffed her wrists. "There's a good girl." She wanted to punch him oh so very badly but she didn't want to feel the repercussions of it. He grabbed her by her upper arm and led her out of her cell.

"Where are we going, Miles?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Oh come on. You know how much I hate surprises."

"Yes. I know a lot about you, actually." The way he said that with so little expression frightened her. He led her up the stairs and onto the main floor of the building. His grip on her arm was like iron as they walked through the hallways. The building was beautiful and was definitely very old. If her fourth grade memory serves her right, they were in Independence Hall.

Dakota's heart rate became more rapid as they walked farther into the building. They finally reached a set of doors where soldiers stood on either side. When they saw them approaching the soldiers straightened and opened the doors for them. They walked side by side into the room and Dakota noticed that there were two more soldiers standing by the door on the inside. She scanned them and saw that they were all carrying pistols and possibly even more. Miles stopped abruptly and turned his head to the guards. "Leave." He ordered and the guards left, closing the doors behind them, no questions asked.

Dakota took a minute or so to assess where they were. It was an office of some sort; long table by large windows that let in the sunlight, a fireplace set into the same wall as the door, where a fire crackled, couch and chairs in front of the fireplace and two desks at the opposite end of the room. No one sat behind the desks, however. A huge map of the republic hung on the wall behind the desks. She looked back at Miles with her eyebrows raised. "Gonna tell me why I'm here or not?" He didn't say anything but looked past her as a door opened and footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. Dakota turned her attention back to the front of the room and her heart skipped a beat. Her arms went numb as they hung in front of her, the cuffs choking her wrists.

General Sebastian Monroe stood by a closed door, his hand still on the doorknob. He regarded her with familiar blue eyes. Dakota did not smile when she saw him, just stood there lost for words. She shifted her weight to her other foot and took a deep breath.

"Hi." She said, not addressing with any kind of formality. Just, 'hi.' He opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but nothing was said and his eyes looked over her before they refocused back on her face.

"Dakota. You look," he paused for a second, "good."

"Thanks. You too but I mean, who doesn't like a man in uniform?" She asked trying to lighten the tension in the room. The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. She felt Miles shift slightly behind her.

"Your hair is so much longer than before." He said, his voice lighter, his eyes trailing down her elbow length curls. What is up with the hair thing?

"Well, there aren't exactly salons around anymore." She moved her gaze from him down to the cuffs. "Are these really necessary?" She rattled the cuffs. Dakota watched Monroe's gaze shift to Miles. She guessed that they were having a silent conversation between themselves. Then Bass nodded and Miles took the cuffs off of her.

"Don't do anything stupid." Miles said to her. She grinned at him.

"Who? Me?" Miles simply rolled his eyes and stood tensely next to her. Dakota rubbed her sore wrists and looked around the room again. "You know, the last time I was here, was on a fourth grade field trip. Got in trouble for touching the Liberty Bell." Bass grinned at her as he walked over to one of the desks.

"Seems like you were just born to rebell." Miles said, slowly turning his head to look at her. Being taller than her, Dakota had to look up in order to glare at him.

"I didn't believe it was you at first." Monroe said. Dakota looked back at him. "Hell, I didn't even believe it when Miles told me he found you." He stood behind the desk and opened a drawer. "But," he continued, reaching into the drawer, "My men found this." he said tossing something onto the floor near her feet. Dakota moved her hands to shield herself just in case. But her arms dropped to her sides when she heard a thump as something landed on the floor. Dakota looked down at the folded camouflage uniform, her last name embroidered on the breast pocket. "I had no doubt after I saw that." He walked around to the front of the desk and leaned back against it, hands in his pockets. Dakota stared down at the uniform and swallowed hard.

"Why am I here?" She said sternly, her gaze moving from the uniform to Monroe.

"You broke the law." He said simply. His head tilted to the side slightly and added, "Or maybe I just wanted to see an old friend. After all, we don't see many of those these days." He said looking over her shoulder to Miles.

"I wonder why that is." She said crossing her arms. His eyes focused back on her.

"You still have that sharp tongue."

"Yes well after the blackout, some people hardly changed."

"Your one to talk," Miles interjected as he walked forward so that he was not behind her anymore but still close enough to catch her if she decided to do anything brash. Which would most likely be asking to be shot. "You banding together with your little rebel buddies." Dakota couldn't help the laugh that came out.

"You don't know the half of it." She started but quickly shut her mouth. _Don't say anything!_ she told herself mentally. But it was too late. She had, of course, already caught their interest.

"Oh please. Don't stop there." Miles said coolly. Dakota's heart rate sped up and tried to think of ways to escape this conversation. "Or do you need a little persuasion." Miles put a hand on the holstered gun attached to his leg. Dakota looked over at Bass but his blue eyes slid lazily from Miles to her. He was totally fine with the idea of her being shot. Great.

"The rebels don't even know who I am."

"What does that mean exactly?" Bass asked her. She took a deep breath to calm herself and folded her arms across her chest.

"They think that I am someone named William Washington."

"Yeah that's original." Miles commented. Dakota rolled her eyes and continued.

"I only have two contacts that come to me with updates and information. If the rebels need help I devise strategies, lay out plans of attack and create basic guidelines to help them out."

"And these contacts would be..." Bass trailed off and waited for an answer. Dakota grinned and shook her head.

"You really expect me to give them up so easily? Thought I'd see you again and spill my guts out about everything that I know?" Monroe's eyes were like blue flames that burned into her own.

"And how much _do_ you know, Kody?" He asked her. She clenched her jaw to keep herself from saying anything.

"She probably knows where all the camps are positioned. Where most of their weapons and ammunition depots are. Even where they keep their rations of food and water. Am I close?" Dakota turned her head to look at Miles. "Not going to talk? That's okay, your silence says everything."

"Our men said that they found an escape route under the floor." Bass looked at her with such an intensity that she had to look away. "They also said they saw fresh foot prints. Tell me who you helped sneak out. Was it your contacts?" He must have seen her expression change when he mentioned them. "Ah, it was, wasn't it?"

"I didn't sneak anyone out." She said still avoiding his gaze.

"You know," he began, "the nice thing about knowing someone for a long time is that you get to know when the other is lying." Bass looked over at Miles and nodded his head. Miles walked over to the doors and let in two soldiers. They walked over to her and a soldier stood on either side of her, holding her arms. She watched as Monroe and Miles strode over to the fireplace and the soldiers followed like obedient dogs, dragging Dakota along with them. There was a small coffee table in front of the fire place which Dakota and the soldiers stood behind. Monroe stood in silence staring at the fire and then waved to the soldiers.

Before Dakota knew what was happening, the soldiers had her on her knees and had her left arm pinned, wrist up, to the top of the table. She struggled underneath their hold but the more she struggled, the more painful it was. One of the guards held her head up by a fistful of hair and the other stepped on the back of her legs to prevent her from standing up. The one that held her legs down was also the one that held her arm down. He used his free hand to roll up her sleeve, exposing her skin.

Dakota watched as Monroe pulled an iron poker out of the fire. Miles just stood by and watched in silence. She looked at the hot red end of the iron poker but noticed that it wasn't an ordinary poker; at the end of it was a brand with a capital M on it. He turned around and stood in front of the coffee table. He stared at the poker as he spoke. "I'll ask you again, who did you sneak out?"

"No one!" Dakota exclaimed. Monroe's eyes darted down to her face. All she saw was emptiness. "You don't have to do this! Please! I swear I didn't let anyone sneak out!" She thought she saw something flash across his face. Was it sympathy? Pity? Sadness? Or was it just her imagination. It was gone within a second. Even though she pleaded, he wasn't convinced.

"Let's see how your little rebel companions take the news that you have turned on them and have officially become a member of the Republic." He lowered the brand closer to her wrist. Dakota struggled as she felt the heat emanating from the hot iron that was held only inches away from her skin.

"No! Bass! Don't!" Dakota pleaded with everything she had. She looked over at Miles but he wouldn't look back at her.

"Then tell me what I want to know!" He yelled.

"I don't know anything." Dakota said in a soft voice. She thought she saw that something flicker across his face again but it disappeared. White hot pain shot up through Dakota's arm as the brand scorched her skin. She closed her eyes and screamed in agony. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at the burnt flesh and the crude letter that was forever fused into her skin. Tears stung her eyes but she forced them back. She looked up at Monroe who had his back turned to her, putting the brand back into the fireplace.

"Take her away." The soldiers forced Dakota to her feet. It was as if all of her energy had been expended on screaming and she had none left. She let the guards drag her out of her room and back to the hell hole that was her prison cell.


	2. Chapter 2

_**It took forever to get this chapter out because of unfortunate setbacks but here it is! I did make one mistake in my first chapter though. Monroe's office is in Independence Hall, not Liberty Hall. I rewatched the first season and realized it then. My bad! Anyways, hope you all enjoy and feedback is always great! Thank for choosing to stick with my story! Note: this whole story will be placed before the events in the sho**_**w.**

-DL

*2 years before the blackout*

Dakota sat on a tall chair at one of the high tables in her favorite bar. They had the beer she liked and it was conveniently close to the base. A lot of the men came here when they had some time off or just to get drunk off they're asses. She could wear whatever she wanted here and nobody would give a shit. She could wear fishnets, six inch heels, a leather corset and miniskirt combo and no one would think twice about it. But tonight, she just settled for a white v-neck tee, dark skinny jeans and a black cargo jacket that was hung on the back of her chair. It was a slow night and not many people were there. This was the best kind of atmosphere. She kept her pager on in case of emergencies and it lay in the center of the table. Dakota scrolled through the photos on her iPhone and took a sip from her beer. Most of the pictures on her phone were of military friends or friends from school. Dakota never knew her parents and didn't have any brothers or sisters that she knew of, so there weren't many photos of family. She had hopped around from different foster homes all the time growing up. Most of them were very nice but some realized that they weren't cut out for the whole 'parenting' thing.

Someone clapped a hand on her shoulder and Dakota jumped slightly. "Hey there." Dakota turned her head and smiled. Miles Matheson and Sebastian Monroe stood behind her with thousand watt smiles on their faces.

"Hey yourselves." They walked around her and sat in the empty stools. They had already ordered their beers and placed them on top of the table along with her half empty one.

"We heard you were off tonight." Bass said, taking a drink.

"Uh yeah. But why are you here?" She said pointing her finger at them. "If I remember correctly, you both are most certainly on duty tonight."

"Yeah well, things happen." Miles said looking around the bar. Dakota shook her head.

"Unbelievable. I cannot believe you both snuck out."

"We had an excuse." Miles replied.

"Oh this should be good."

"We wanted to spend some time with our favorite Master Sergeant." Bass said, sending a brilliant smile her way. She felt her cheeks heat up slightly.

"Oh good one. I can tell you really thought about that. But what the hell, right? Your here now." Dakota ordered another round for them all and they started talking. They took turns telling each other of what happened in the past week or so. Their conversations were always filled with hilarious stories and Dakota's stomach ended up getting a major ab workout. They had probably been sitting there for thirty minutes, Miles was telling a story from a bachelor party he and Bass had gone to awhile back, when Dakota's pager went off. Miles stopped talking as Dakota reached for her pager. But before her hand could touch it, Bass snatched it.

"I don't think you need to get this." Dakota held her hand out to him.

"Actually, I do. What if it's base asking me if I know anything about these two knuckle heads who decided to go out when they are supposed to be on duty. And I would possibly need to, oh I don't know, bail them out?"

"Good point." he said and surrendered the pager. Dakota read the message to herself and furrowed her brows.

"What?" Miles asked before taking a swing from his bottle.

"Uh, nothing. Base needs me back for some reason."

"Did they say why?"

"No, which is the odd part." Dakota clipped the pager back onto her belt and stood. She grabbed her cargo jacket off her chair and slipped into it. "So, um, you guys got this right?" She said indicating the beer. Her companions looked at her with raised eyebrows. Slowly walking backwards towards the door she added, "You better get your asses back to base soon too." They responded by waving dismissively and she smiled before turning around and walking outside. A light rain had begun to fall from the dark sky as Dakota dug her car keys out of her pocket. She found them and hopped into her silver Jeep Wrangler. Traffic wasn't bad and she got back to the base in under fifteen minutes.

She parked her Jeep and right as she stepped out, her pager went off again. She closed and locked her car door before looking at the message. It told her where to meet; well, whoever it was she was meeting. She headed in that general direction and the rain started to come down a little harder. Her hair became damp and stuck to the sides of her cheeks. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was very off about whatever this was.

She reached her destination which was an area close to the back of the base. It was a courtyard type area where some men liked to hang around and one floored brick buildings surrounded it. The area was empty and since the moon was covered by clouds, it was dark so she couldn't really see all that well either. The rain was the same and it began to soak into her jacket. Dakota sighed and checked her pager again but there were no new messages. "This is ridiculous." she muttered to herself.

She began to turn around and walk away but someone grabbed her by the back of her jacket and yanked her backwards. She gasped in surprise and dropped her pager. A strong hand pushed her back, hard, against one of the brick buildings. A hand grabbed her underneath her chin and forced her to look forward. The man standing in front of her was the soldier who had called her a bitch earlier that day. Her heart pounded inside her chest.

"I told you that I would make you regret what you said. And honey, I make sure to keep my promises." he sneered. Dakota spotted movement on her left and right and two other men approached. Great. He brought friends.

"Look," she managed to say. "I didn't mean to.." She didn't get to finish her sentence because he smashed her back against the wall, this time hitting her head. Dakota's vision was blurred and she had to blink a few times to get rid of her double sight.

"Are you seriously trying to apologize? Oh sweetheart, this situation is way past apologies." The other men took either of her arms and pinned them against the wall. Thats when Dakota started to struggle. She tried to wrench her arms free from them but, despite her own toned arms, they were much stronger. The Marine in front leaned all of his body weight into her and something flashed out of the corner of her eye. He had a blade in his free hand. "So, why don't we have a little fun?" He positioned the knife at her throat. His other hand unsnapped the button to her jeans. Dakota trashed against them and was going to scream when she saw someone standing behind them.

"What's going on?" A familiar voice asked. Bass. Thank god. The Marines turned their heads to look at their unexpected visitor.

Dakota opened her mouth and said, "Ba..." but the knife dug in deeper to her skin and she stopped talking.

"Pierce?" Bass said, squinting through the darkness to make sure it was her. She saw him perfectly fine. His hair was damp from the rain as well as his clothes.

"Hey, Sergeant. This is none of your business. So why don't you be a good little soldier and walk away." The Marine in front of her said. Monroe's gaze never left hers.

"Are you alright?" He asked her. Dakota shook her head slightly and she saw his shoulders become tense.

"Hey! I said shut up and walk away!"

"You don't have to do this, Sergeant." Monroe said, taking a step forward. The Marine let out a guttural laugh.

"Sure I do. We can't just let her get away with what she does. Although, now that I think about it, you and Matheson get a lot of extra special attention. Maybe you all have a dirty deal going on, am I right? Maybe your bangin' them on the side and they get to slack off? Admit it, you whore." He said, talking directly to Dakota.

"Hey, jack ass! Don't talk to her like that! Show a little respect!" Bass took another step forward. The Marine rolled his eyes and looked over at his buddies. They let go of Dakota's arms and started to walk towards Monroe. Two against one fight. The three men broke out into a whirl of fists and kicks, some blows connecting, others not so much. With her hands now free, Dakota tried to wrench the knife from the Marines' hand. But he slammed her head against the wall which dazed her. Dakota looked over his shoulder and saw that one of the men was holding Bass by his arms and the other was punching him repeatedly.

Rage burned inside of Dakota and she finally made a decision that any sensible woman in trouble would do. She kneed the Marine right between the legs and he let out a loud groan. Dakota pushed him away from him and stepped out of his reach as he tried to grab her. She used her training from many years and swiftly grabbed his arm, pinned it behind his back and dislocated his shoulder, which made the Marine fall to his knees. The knife fell to the ground and Dakota kicked it away. She then let go of his arm and then kicked him square in the back, his head hit the brick wall with a sickening sound. He slumped to the ground unconscious.

Dakota quickly turned her attention to the other two Marines. Bass was now down on one knee and the Marine who was doing all the punching was about to hit him again. Dakota sprinted to the Marine and tackled him to the cold, wet ground. Punches were thrown and Dakota used one of her best weapons; her nails. She scratched at his face as he tried to attack her. He let out a painful growl when she kneed him in his gut. He regained his composure quickly though and pinned her down. He pulled a switch blade out and made a move to stab her. She closed her eyes but suddenly the weight on top of her was gone. Dakota opened her eyes and looked at the unconscious Marine who lay on the ground beside her.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up, rain falling onto her face. Bass stood over her, his face bloody, his breathing labored and soaked head to toe with rain. She, no doubt, looked the same way. He extended a hand down to her and she took it. He helped her to her feet and she wasted no time embracing him. She held onto him with all the strength she had left. She felt his arms wrap around her and she dug her head into his wet shoulder.

She backed away and looked up at his face. There were cuts on his face; one above his eyebrow, another by his mouth and on his forehead. His lip was busted and bruises were already starting to form. "Oh, god." She said quietly, gently placing a hand on his face. "We need to get you to the infirmary."

"I'm fine. I'm more worried about you."

"You are in far worse condition than I am."

"I don't care. As long as your okay." She nodded and she heard him sigh. "Good. I..." He trailed off and as she placed her other hand on his cheek and brought his lips down to hers.

* * *

*9 years after the blackout*

It had been two days since she was let out of her prison cell. The only visitors that came were guards that dropped off stale food and water. The water was horrible but she knew she had to drink to get some of her energy. There was a small window with bars over it that let her knew whether it was day or night outside. Right now, Dakota lay on her back on the uncomfortable cot and stared at the ceiling. She had rethought about that day over and over again so many times.

After that day, the three Marines that attacked her 'told' on her. She had to settle for a honorable discharge because if she didn't, she would have been court martialed which would have been ridiculous because she was not to blame. The Marines had said that she was trying to bribe them with sex and when they said no, Dakota lost her temper and apparently beat them up. All by herself. Bass was upset and wanted to go tell what really happened but Dakota pleaded with him not too. She didn't want to ruin his career. After everything, Dakota and Bass were together been for six months. And then Susan happened. They split but it wasn't a horrible break up. She kept in touch every now and then but then the blackout happened and she hadn't had any contact with either Miles or Bass. Probably because they were too busy taking over a country.

She laughed to herself and rolled over onto her side. She glanced up at the window and it was dark outside. Too bad she wasn't tired. Dakota got up from her cot and paced back and forth. She lifted her wrist up and looked at the burned skin. It was healing but it still hurt, a lot. She noticed movement outside of her cell and looked over to the door. A guard stood there with keys in his hand. That was it. Just keys. Dakota had stopped pacing and watched the guard carefully as he unlocked the door and it swung open.

"Turn around. Hands behind your back." Dakota did as she was told and the guard slapped the cuffs onto her wrists. He placed one of his hands on her upper arm and led her upstairs. Was this it? Were they going to execute her now? Tonight? Oh well, better now than never, she guessed. Although, the guard didn't lead her outside. They passed the office that she was in two days ago and headed up a set of wooden stairs. They walked down a hallway together and he began to slow down. They came to a stop in front of a door. Just a normal doorway. There was nothing menacing about it.

The guard took off her cuffs and opened the door. He pushed her inside and closed the door behind her. She didn't hear the click of a lock however. She was tempted to try the knob but there was someone else in the room with her. She recognized him just by the way he stood leaning over the fireplace; an armed propped up on the mantel and the other by his side, holding a glass a whiskey. She didn't make any sudden moves, only her eyes moved across the room that they were alone in. It was a small living area; couch and chairs set in front of the fireplace, books shelves along the walls, two large windows and an alcohol cabinet. There was a door to her left that led into a bedroom.

"This is much more comfortable than that cell I've been kept in for two days." She said emphasizing 'two days'. "I'll take it." Humor was the only thing she thought would get a reaction from him. He only stood there looking at something in the hand that was propped up on the mantel. She peered through the dim lit room to see what was in his hand. It was a photo. Not just any photo. It was a photo of her, smiling with her eyes closed. On either side of her, were two men kissing her on her cheeks. The two men in the photo were Miles and Bass.

"This is my room." He said turning his head to look her. She however did not look at him. She was focused on the photo in his hand. "Found this," he said waving the photo in his hand, "in the breast pocket of your uniform." She cleared her throat and looked at him.

"Yeah well its one of the only things that helps me remember how things used to be before the blackout." He looked down at the photo once more and then tossed it into the fire. Dakota took a step forward but stopped. It was too late and she watched the photo turn into ashes. "Or it 'was'. "

"Why did you side with them?" he asked her suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb." He snapped. Dakota scoffed and shook her head.

"What was i supposed to do, Bass? Just walk into Philly and say 'Hey, remember me? Yeah, I want to join up with the merry band.' I had had enough fighting before the blackout. I really didn't want to become involved with more bloodshed. But of course, I did anyways. Now look where that's gotten me." Monroe studied her for a moment before he looked away and walked over to the alcohol cabinet. He set down his glass and picked something else up. Dakota watched him with curiosity as he scooped something out of a jar and walked over to her. He stood so close to her that she felt his body heat and could smell his alcohol stained breath. He took her left arm and lifted it up. He pushed back her shirt sleeve and stared at the burn. She watched as he brought his other hand up and rubbed something cold onto the burn. Dakota flinched as the salve stung slightly but it felt cool and she new that it would help it to heal.

"Tell me something," he said quietly. She looked at his face but he still stared at her wrist as he continued to rub it. "Is it really so terrible to be here?" His eyes met hers. Then everything happened at once. She couldn't remember who had kissed who first but she didn't really care. They back pedaled, shedding one piece of clothing at a time. Once they reached the bedroom, Dakota's red flags were going off like crazy. Her conscious was screaming at her to stop but her body was telling her otherwise. She listened to her body.

* * *

Dakota woke up with the sun warming her bare back. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times to get them to focus. She looked around and her heart skipped a beat; this was not her prison cell. She went to sit up but realized that she, in fact, had no clothes on. Her eyes widened and clenched the bed sheet close to her chest. She sat up in the comfortable bed, that also wasn't hers. There was no one else in the room, so Dakota relaxed lightly. She sat there for a moment listening to silence, not really thinking about anything. Then she thought about everything.

Dakota sighed and slapped a hand to her forehead. She'd made a mistake. A big one. But... it didn't feel like one. "No, don't think like that." she said to herself, slapping her cheek. "It was a one time thing. It's done and now you have to get out of here." She looked around the room for her clothes but they were nowhere to be seen. This was just great.

Dakota heard footsteps and looked over to the doorway that linked the bedroom to the living area. An older women, in her late fifties stood there, wearing what Dakota guessed was a maids uniform, and she held a semi large bag in her one hand. Dakota suddenly felt very aware of her current situation and her cheeks burned as she wrapped the cover even tighter around herself.

"Here are some clothes for you. I took a guess of what shirt and pants size you were. I'm usually pretty good at guessing those things. I've got a daughter that seems to be the same age as you and same body type." Dakota's mouth hung open slightly as she sat there dumbfounded. Is this for real? "Actually, some of these clothes are hers but she never wears them so i doubt she'll miss them." The maid set the clothes down on the large dresser across from the bed.

Dakota cleared her throat. "Excuse me, not to be rude or anything, but who are you?" The older woman waved a dismissive hand as she crossed the room and into the bathroom. Dakota still sat on the bed, confused and then the woman came out of the bathroom and headed for the door.

"You lucky the waters still hot." the woman must have seen the confusion on Dakota's face because she sighed and put her hands on her hips. "I set up a bath for you about ten minutes ago. Now i will leave you to it." She turned to leave but then stopped and turned half way and looked back at Dakota. "There are two guards outside the door if you need anything. Oh and just call me, Bonnie." Then she was gone. Once she heard the click of the door closing, Dakota swung her legs over the edge of the bed, made sure everything was covered and walked to the bathroom. There was steam rising from the bath tub and Dakota couldn't climb in fast enough. The warm water covered her skin and it felt absolutely wonderful. She couldn't remember the last time she had bathed in anything but river water. She sat back and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. She took a deep breath and sunk underneath the surface of the water and stayed there until her lungs were begging for air. She scrubbed her thick hair and washed her body well.

Once she was done, she wrung the water from her hair and then slipped into a short, white bathrobe. She walked out of the bathroom and grabbed the bag of clothes. She put it on the bed and started to remove its contents. Bonnie's daughter and Dakota had very close taste in clothing. All neutral colors, not too many patterns and not too revealing. Dakota settled on a plain grey tank top and dark skinny jeans. She slipped undergarments on and then her clothing. She found a pair of grey flats, not her first choice, but since her combat boots were nowhere to be found as well, the flats would have to do. Her curls had dried and Dakota didn't have anything to put it up with, so it stayed down.

Dakota walked out in the living area and over to the door. She put her ear to the wood and listened. She heard muffled conversation on the other side. There really were guards there. "Damn." she said quietly. Dakota paced back and forth, stopped every couple minutes and looked around the room. She noticed the air vents but they were definitely too small for her to try and squeeze through. The windows were a good option but she was on the second floor and there was nothing on the side of the building that could help her get to the ground.

Dakota finally stopped pacing and plopped down on the couch. "Wait a minute." She sprung right back off the couch and walk back into the bedroom. Dakota smiled as she saw the french doors that led out to a balcony. She basically skipped her way over to the doors and almost let out a cry of happiness when the door swung open. A slight breeze traveled into the room and ruffled her hair. Dakota cautiously walked out on the balcony and took in the view of Philadelphia. It was an amazing sight but Dakota wanted nothing more than to get out of this city.

Dakota slowly peered over the cement railing. Her eyes searched all around for any kind of guards. The street below was pretty much empty. Next, she looked to the sides of the building and there was a drain pipe that ran down the side of the brick. It was small to hang onto but it was something. Dakota closed the French doors and walked over to the railing. She hoisted herself up on the cement and swung her legs over the edge. She tried not to look down but she did anyways. She took a deep breath and did the sign of the cross.

Scooting closer to the edge, Dakota reached out with both hands and grabbed onto the metal of the pipe. She made sure her grip was strong and then she let the rest of her body slip off the edge of the rail. She dangled from the pipe for a couple seconds before her feet found a stabilizing bracket that was holding the pipe to the building. Dakota's breathing was already labored from keeping her own body weight up in mid air like that but she needed to keep going. She started to ease herself down the pipe, her thighs clinging to the metal. Dakota made sure to keep listening and checking the area around her for people. About ten minutes later, her feet were on solid ground.

Leaning back against the building, Dakota took only a second to catch her breath. Then she moved along the building, making sure to keep her back as close to the brick as possible and to cautiously peer around corners. Dakota rounded a corner but just as she did, a group of militia men walked around a corner at the end of the alley she was in. She quickly ducked into a back door and closed the it behind her. She leaned against the door and as she looked around, she realized she was in the kitchen. Something smelled delicious and her stomach growled at her quite loudly. She placed a hand on her flat stomach and said "What the hell in wrong with you?" directly to her stomach. She was hungry but now wasn't exactly the time to stop and eat.

She quietly slipped out of the kitchen and into an empty hall. All of her senses were on high alert right now and she approached everything with caution. She came to the end of the hallway and it split to the right and left. Dakota stayed close to the right corner and peered down to the left. It was all clear so she edged out closer to peer down the right when someone ran into her.

"Oh, jeez. I'm sorry i didn't see you." Dakota heard a woman's voice say. Dakota looked up and a young woman, around her age stood there. She had long dark hair, dark skin and was very pretty.

"Um, no its okay." Dakota said. The woman nodded and smiled at Dakota.

"I don't think we've met before." She extended her left hand to Dakota. Dakota made a quick glance at her wrist; no capitol M branded into her skin. Dakota relaxed slightly and took the woman's hand. "I'm Nora."

"Dakota." They released each others hands and stood there in awkward silence. Nora's gaze moved down to Dakota's own wrist and gestured to it.

"Are you enlisted?"

"Something like that." Dakota said, not sure how to answer that question. Laughing could be heard behind them and that meant unwanted company. Dakota looked over her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Nora asked, putting a hand on her arm. Dakota looked back the other woman.

"Yeah, but I uh, actually have to go." Dakota slipped past Nora and walked down the hall. She felt Nora staring at her as she walked away until she rounded a corner and found a door that was slightly ajar. Dakota looked up and down the hall as she approached the door. Voices could be heard from inside the room. Dakota stayed close to the wall as she peered through the open crack of the door.

The room was the office that she had been in a few days earlier. This was just a different entrance. The sound of voices became clearer as she edged closer to the door and she saw that there were three men standing at the long table by the windows. They're backs were to her and they were all hunched over, looking at something. Dakota still couldn't quite hear what they were talking about and being as nosey as she was, she opened the door a little more. Dakota recognized that two of the three men were Monroe and Miles.

She strained to listen and she briefly heard what they were talking about; an attack on a rebel compound. This perked her interest, even though her conscious was screaming at her to get the hell out of there. The one man was doing most of the talking and judging by his uniform and the way he spoke, he was most likely a Captain.

Dakota listened to the way the Captain planned on leading his army of men into the camp. She couldn't help but cringe and pick out every flaw. By this rate, he would most certainly gotten all of his men killed. Something came over Dakota and her military brain kicked in. She opened the door and leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. They still did not notice that she was there but they would shortly because the Captain was finishing up.

"This plan is absolutely flawless and the scum wont know what hit 'em."

"Are you sure about that, Captain?" All of the men turned around at the sound of her voice. Monroe's facial expression was a mixture of confusion, anger and amusement. Miles just looked annoyed. The Captain furrowed his brows at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you sure that your plan is, in fact, flawless?"

"Yes, I am sure." the Captain huffed. Dakota pushed off of the doorframe and took a couple steps into the room before stopping.

"Have you thought about the geography while compiling this master plan?" She asked him. The Captain looked dumbstruck.

"I.. that has nothing to do with..."

"That's where your wrong."

"Excuse me?" he said in a tone of disbelief.

"Let me put it this way; when a snake bites you, does it matter whether its poisonous or not?"

"I don't see how that is relevant to the situation." the Captain countered.

"Captain," Monroe said, joining the conversation, "She asked you a question." The Captain clenched his jaw as he answered.

"I suppose so."

Dakota nodded and walked over to the table. "So then, geography has everything to do with this." She glanced at the map on the table. "May I?" She said looking at Monroe. He moved aside an she leaned over the map. As her eyes scanned the targeted area, she assessed everything and different scenarios played over in her head. She felt all of there eyes watching her. Finally, she stood up straight and pointed as she spoke. "Captain, if we were to go along with your plan, most of your men would be dead within ten minutes of your attack. Your lucky that I know this place pretty well. This whole area," she circled the map with her finger, "is made up of hills and valleys. This rebel camp is located directly in a valley. The rebels most likely... no they have snipers located looking out over the camp. Three on either side. Your men would be gunned down before they even got close." Dakota stopped for a moment and glanced at the Captain, who's face had turned a bright shade of scarlet.

"What you need to do is organize two groups of six men. Send them to overpower the snipers quietly. Once that is executed, two will stay on either side and the remaining men will travel to the other side of the valley. When they are in position, you will then be able to attack from both sides and from above and make sure no one escapes." Dakota's heart was racing by the time she was done. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked to Monroe and Miles. Both of them were staring at the map, thinking about what she had just said.

"Huh." Miles said. Monroe looked up at the Captain.

"Captain. What do you think?" The Captain shifted his weight and swallowed hard.

"I guess... I mean..." He was flustered. The three of them stared at the Captain waiting for him to say something. He sighed in frustration and nodded. "It's a very excellent plan."

"Then execute it, Captain." Monroe ordered. The Captain nodded sternly and made to walk out but stopped.

"How can we be sure that what you just said to me isn't a scheme to get all of us killed? Since y'know, you are a rebel."

"Oh, Captain. Haven't you heard?" Dakota extended her arm and showed him her burn. "I'm officially part of the Monroe Militia."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello everyone! Here is part three of my story! It took awhile to publish, I know, so I hope that you all enjoy it! Please leave comments and favorite/follow! Thanks again! **_

_**Note: the captain at the end of part two did not have a name so I gave him one in this chapter: Captain Collins. **_

_***9 years after blackout***_

_What have I done? What have I DONE?_! Dakota screamed mentally as she pushed her way through the busy sidewalks of Philadelphia. She couldn't get out of that office fast enough. It was all a blur afterwards and she just needed some air. She had no idea where she was going, she just needed to go _somewhere_. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head vigorously. She was an absolute idiot. What kind of web has she gotten herself tangled into? Dakota's nails dug into her arm and she let out an aggravated sigh. This earned her a few stares and she just kept her head down and walked on.

"Dakota!" Hearing her name being called, she stopped and turned her head. She saw that people were moving out of the way to let someone through. A familiar figure appeared through the crowd. It was Miles. Dakota could tell by the way he strode over to her that he wasn't in the best of moods. When he reached her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a cobblestone street alley, away from the hustle and bustle of the main street.

"Where are your bodyguards, General? I'm sure your considered a celebrity around here." Either Dakota's dry sarcasm didn't bother him or he was just too pissed off to care.

"What the hell was that?" He exclaimed, his arms flying up into the air. Dakota shoved her hands in her front jeans pockets and leaned back against the brick building. She shrugged and looked down at her feet. "Oh, don't give me that crap, Kody. Just yesterday, you were locked up in a prison and now look at you." He eyed her and she could feel her cheeks heat up. He mustn't know! He must have seen her cheeks turn scarlet because his jaw hung open slightly. "Jesus. Tell me you didn't..." He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Why are you shaking your head, Miles? Is it really such a bad thing?" She said pushing off from the building she was leaning against. She walked closer to him and looked up into his face. "Maybe, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but just maybe I can help you." Dakota saw the doubt in his eyes. "Just listen to what I have to say and then you can think about it. Look how far you and Bass have gotten. You both have control of so much and have influence over so many places and people. If you ask me, that's a lot of power and that can easily go to someones head. Trust me, I know. It just depends who it'll hit first; you or Bass." There was still some doubt in his eyes but she could tell that what she was saying made sense to him. "There needs to be something that keeps that ability to rule from being overshadowed by the lust for power." She took another step closer to him and held his gaze firmly in hers. "That something can be me. Just think about it."

Dakota took a step back and turned away. Miles said nothing as he watched her walk out of the alley and disappear into the crowded streets of Philly.

* * *

After she had spoken to Miles, Dakota had walked around Philly some more until she ended up finding a peaceful pathway that was surrounded by trees and shrubs. The more she walked down the path, the more she began to wonder if she was even still in Philly. She was surprised she hadn't run into any troops yet. Her heart skipped a beat. The thought of an escape ran across her mind. But if she were to escape, were would she go? A rebel camp? She knew the area well enough to know where the closest one was but it was still quite a travel. Surely the militia would catch up to her. Also, she did feel guilty about what she had done. There was no way she could live amongst the rebels and be the only one who knew that she'd done such a traitorous thing. Yelling brought Dakota out of her thoughts. She stopped walking and listened. It was clearly a males voice that was yelling. It came from her right, through the trees and bushes. Dakota walked over and tried to peer through the thick mass of tangled shrubbery. She had no luck so she carefully moved forward and picked her way through it as branches scraped against her arms and legs. She finally got through and peeled back some branches to see the source of yelling, which had gotten louder. In front of her, was a militia camp in a flat field. There were tents scattered all around and troops walked around aimlessly.

Except for a group of young men, that stood alert in front of a man who was yelling at them. Although, he wasn't yelling at all of them. He was yelling at a boy, no more than nineteen. The boy just stood there as the officer screamed in his face. This kind of reminded Dakota of training days in the Marines. She remembered that one time she had forgot to solute her commanding officer and she had gotten her ass chewed out. But the way this officer was yelling at this boy was almost far worse. Whatever he did, he didn't deserve to be treated so badly. Then all of a sudden, the officer grabbed the boy by the back of the neck and threw him onto the ground. He started to repeatedly kick the boy anywhere he couldn't protect himself.

Dakota's more motherly instincts kicked in and she couldn't stop her feet from running towards the two. She would have never treated any of her men this way; the Marines were brutal but not to this extreme. "Hey!" She screamed at the officer, who just kept kicking the boy, "_HEY_!" she screamed louder, still running. She finally reached them and she grabbed onto the officer's uniform and shoved him away from the boy. The officer stood panting and looked enraged by the interference. Dakota knelt down to the boy, who was bloody and coughing, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell do you think your doing?" She said looking up from the boy to the officer. "You could have killed him."

"This? Oh, sweetheart, this is nothing. This is just to help build character. Toughens them up." He paused for a moment before adding on, "Or maybe I like to pray on the weak." The officer said maliciously. Dakota gave the man a look of disgust and turned her attention back to the boy. His face was a bloody mess. She ripped a piece of fabric off of his uniform and used it to gently wipe his face. "Excuse me. What the hell do _you_ think _your_ doing? This boy doesn't need to be mothered."

"He doesn't need to suffer either." She looked up at the officer with defiance.

"You better watch your tongue. Better yet, why don't you get the hell out of my camp." Dakota had about enough of this officer. She put the cloth she used to dab the boys face on the ground and stood up. She walked around the beaten boy and walked closer to the officer.

"Your going to have to make me because there is no way I'm letting you beat children for pleasure." The officer took a step forward and gave her an evil smile.

"I know who you are. Your Monroe's rebel whore."

"Wow, word gets around fast here." Dakota said sarcastically. The grin on the officer's face grew.

"There's something special about you, isn't there? Otherwise you'd be six feet under by now. Are you really that useful?" He said, leering at her.

"Yeah, I am pretty useful. Unlike you." The grin was wiped from his face, replaced by anger. His hand balled into a fist and Dakota saw the punch before it even happened. She calmly ducked under the swing, hammered him in the stomach with her fist, then kneed him in the face as he was bent over, breaking his nose. The officer fell to the ground, his hand to his face, holding his now broken nose. The whole skirmish was over in less than fifteen seconds. She put her hands on her hips and he looked up at her in shock. "Guess this didn't work out the way you planned, huh?" Dakota shrugged and walked back over to the boy. But she heard the click of a blade and then the officer let out an angry cry. Dakota waited till the last second to turn sideways and grab the hand with the blade. She held that hand and as he passed, Dakota used the officers body weight and momentum to dislocate his shoulder. This resulted in a loud, audible crack. The officer yelped and fell, hitting his head on the ground. Dakota backed away from the fallen officer and looked up at the young militia troops, who just stared at her with wide eyes and mouths agape.

"What's going on over there?" Someone yelled from the distance. Dakota looked over at the main camp area and saw another officer peering over at all of them. Several others had stopped to watch what had happened. She'd caught much more attention than she would have liked.

Dakota turned to the boys and said "You are all brothers here. You stick up for each other. Never forget that." Dakota started to walk away, back the way she came, but something tugged on her ankle. She looked down and it was the boy, who had managed to get himself into a sitting position. Dakota crouched down so that she was eye level with him. The boy looked at her through swollen eyes and he grabbed her hand.

"Thank you." He said quietly. Dakota smiled at him and cupped his face gently in her hands.

"Your welcome, Brother." She said before standing, and striding off and disappearing through the trees and back to the path.

* * *

Dakota spent the rest of her evening in Monroe's room. She tried to rest but she couldn't keep her eyes closed. She paced the living area for awhile, then the bedroom and then back in the living area. By the time the sun set, she had started a fire in the fireplace and was sitting on the couch, watching the flames dance behind the grate. Dakota thought of that boy again. He reminded her of Adam. That made her think of her friends and her heart dropped. If they found out what she had done, they would never forgive her. Though, they probably thought she was dead by now. There was a question that buzzed in the back of her mind; who had ratted them out to the militia in the first place? She wondered if Adam and Scott had found out. She would make a note to ask Miles later. A small knock at the door brought Dakota out of her thoughts. She looked over at the door just as a soldier opened the door and stood in the doorway.

"General Monroe has asked to speak with you."

Dakota followed the soldier through the dark hallways which were lit by torches that burned low. The flames made eerie shadows on the walls that played in different shapes. When Dakota was younger, these shadow monsters would have scared her. The soldier stopped at the office doors and opened them for her. She quietly thanked him and walked into the room, which was dimly lit with candles. Monroe was standing at his desk speaking in hushed tones with another man. When Monroe looked up and saw her, he made a wave of his hand and the man saluted him before leaving the office. The doors closed and Monroe made his way to the alcohol cabinet.

"I heard that you broke the nose of one of my officers today." He said as he poured a glass of whiskey.

"And dislocated his shoulder but hey, who's paying attention to details?"

"What did he do to piss you off?" There was humor in his voice. Something that she hadn't heard since she'd gotten here. He looked up at her and she shook her head.

"It's nothing." She looked away from him.

"Dakota." Hearing him say her name sent chills up her arms and down her spin. Her eyes darted over to meet his.

"He was beating up a soldier, a young boy." Monroe studied her with his blue eyes before saying nothing and walking to his desk, glass in hand.

"Come look at this." He said, beckoning her over to join him at the desk. Dakota sighed to herself and walked over, standing at the side of the desk and looked down at it. There was a small map on it of the Republic. It was like the one she had seen earlier. She felt his eyes on her once again, although just for a moment and then he focused back on the map. "I just received feedback from the troops that we sent to the rebel camp in the valley. Your plan worked flawlessly." Dakota looked up and at Monroe but his eyes scanned the map. She couldn't help but see the ghost of a smile play on his lips. "There were some injuries but no casualties." He took a drink from his glass and set it back down before he spoke again. "We wiped those rebels right off the map. Didn't even know what hit them."

"Is that so..." Dakota said quietly, feeling the guilt creep up on her again. Monroe's gaze slowly shifted to her but she did not look at him.

"Your not having second thoughts, are you?" He said quietly but still eerily assertive. When she didn't answer him right away, he moved so that he stood next to her, almost trapping her between the desk and himself. "Are you?" He asked again. Dakota shook her head once and looked at him.

"No."

"Good," he said brushing some curls off of her shoulder. "Because I've already issued for Captain Collins' execution." Dakota's heart jumped into her throat and disbelief struck her hard. She turned to face him completely and her disbelief was apparent to Monroe.

"What do you mean? Your just going to kill him? For some lousy mistake?" She sounded very frantic compared to the coolness in Monroe's voice when he spoke next.

"Captain Collins was incompetent and a fool. His 'lousy mistake' would have cost me men. I don't like the thought of that happening."

"I... I don't really know what to say,"

"Then don't say anything, just listen. I want you to to take his place."

"Why?"

"Because you are clearly the better choice. Captain Collins was supposed to be one of our better strategists. Now that he's let me down..." He gently touched the side of her face with his hand, "I know that you won't let me down." He kissed her and she didn't hesitate to kiss him back. Although, she couldn't shake the nervous feeling she had deep down in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Two weeks had passed by and Dakota was living the 'good life.' She was given good food to eat, clean clothes to wear and a bed to sleep in, with Monroe of course. She assisted the militia in destroying about a dozen rebel camps. The strange thing was that the guilt that she had felt before was slowly diminishing. She viewed things differently now; from a winning side. Did that make her a bad person? She didn't really know how to answer that question but she was leaning more towards no.

Dakota now sat at the large wooden table in Monroe's office. Her left elbow was propped on the table, her hand balled into a fist with her temple resting against it. She scribbled notes in black ink onto paper with her right hand. The sun had almost completely sunken from the sky, so she was working by dim candlelight. She had been here almost all day writing down reports of activities from this past week.

Black ink from the dipped pen stained her hurting hand. She had gotten annoyed with her hair, so she had put it up messily. The white peplum top she wore began to feel tight and uncomfortable the longer she sat in the chair. Her vision blurred suddenly and she blinked several times to correct it. She was absolutely exhausted. All she wanted to do was to kick off her heels and get into more comfortable clothes and sleep. She would soon. She was almost done.

The door to the office opened and the sound of footsteps filled the quiet room. Then a voice. "Your still here." It was more a statement than a question. Dakota didn't stop writing to know who her company was. She concentrated on scribbling the last of her notes down before she spoke.

"And now," she said setting the pen down on the table, "I can finally leave." She leaned back in her chair and looked over her shoulder at Monroe. "You'll have to wait until the ink dries but its all written down." She looked back at her hand and examined the black splotches that stained the surface. She then flexed it because it hurt so much. Monroe walked over and stood next to her chair, scanning the documents spread out on the table.

"You did all this today?" He almost sounded shocked. Dakota nodded her head.

"Don't ever have me do this again." She looked up at him and grinned. His blue eyes were assessing and he looked mildly amused. Dakota glanced at the grandfather clock behind him and it read 8:50. It really wasn't that late but it felt like it was. Dakota pushed her chair back and tried to stand but when she did she saw black and lost her balance. She felt Monroe's strong grip catch her by her arms and she held onto him. She closed her eyes tightly and focused on getting her balance back.

"Dakota." She heard him call her name but it sounded far away. She took another second before she shook her head slightly and opened her eyes.

"I'm fine. Really. I'm just a little exhausted, that's all." Monroe helped Dakota back to her room. He had his arm around her waist as she leaned onto him for support, arms crossed over her chest. All she needed was some rest and she would good as new. When they walked into the bedroom, Dakota noticed something laid neatly on the bed. It was a black cocktail dress with matching shoes on the floor by the bed. "What's this?" Monroe placed both his hands on either side of her hips and drew her back to his front.

When he spoke, he did it close to her ear and Dakota could hear the smile in his voice. "Well, since you... We have had so much success lately, I thought it would be a good idea to celebrate." Dakota was very tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep. Although, she didn't want to disappoint Monroe either. She guessed that he didn't do this sort of thing often. "I know that your tired,"

"No, it's okay." She smiled weakly and turned her head and looked up at him. "I'll go." His blue eyes lit up, something she hadn't seen in a very long time. He smiled as he bent down and kissed her gently. He pulled away and stared at her for a couple more heartbeats.

"Good. When your ready, come outside to the front of the building. I'll be waiting." He let go of her hips and walked out of the room. She heard the door close as he left and she walked over to the bed. She picked up the dress and held it out in front of her. It was very beautiful; it was black and it had a sweetheart neckline of lace that connected to lace sleeves and a deep lace back. No doubt it was close fitting but she didn't mind since she had a slim figure. She sighed and looked at the bed that was inviting her with its lush pillows and soft blankets. She shook her head and set the dress down. She undressed and found a strapless bra and then slipped into the dress. It fit her perfectly; Dakota couldn't help but wonder who had owned this dress before her, maybe Bonnie's daughter.

There was a small knock on the main door. Dakota walked out of the bedroom and into the living area. She opened the door slightly and standing there was the women she had bumped into earlier: Nora. She wore a deep purple cocktail dress that complimented her very well. Her hair was pull back into a French twist, some pieces of hair lay by her temples. The other woman gave Dakota a white smile.

"Hi. Um you _do_ remember me right?"

"Yes, yes of course. Nora."

"Oh good." She said looking relieved. "I thought that you might also be attending the event tonight. I came to see if you might need any help? Then we could walk down together." Nora almost overwhelmed Dakota with everything she just said but she was happy there was another woman around. Dakota nodded and moved to let Nora in.

"I could use some help with my hair." Nora and Dakota both smiled and laughed. They went into the bedroom and Dakota sat in front of a vanity as Nora stood behind her. Nora had several bobbi pins stuck in her mouth as she creatively twisted Dakotas curls into a low side bun. It didn't take too long and when Nora was done, Dakota couldn't stop staring; she had no clue her hair could look this nice. "Thank you." She said standing up.

"No problem." Nora responded, smiling.

"Well. I guess all I need is my shoes and we can go." Dakota put on the black high heels and left the room with Nora leading the way. They reached the entrance of Independence Hall. People, men and women, streamed in and out the doorway. Dakota and Nora walked outside and stood at the top of the marble steps. Dakota looked around and enjoyed what she saw; candle lit lanterns hung everywhere emitting a glow over the crowd of nicely dressed people, who were laughing and engaging in light hearted conversation. Music flowed through the buzz of voices from a small string quartet. It felt like she was in a completely differently place. Dakota scanned the crowd and found Monroe and Miles talking to two other men and one woman.

Monroe looked up and over and saw Dakota standing at the top of the steps. He was wearing his uniform as usual and he looked clean shaven. Basically, he looked very handsome. Miles looked over a minute later and waved to them to come over. Nora smiled and started to walk down the steps. Dakota followed her companion through the crowd until they finally reached the men. Nora walked directly over to Miles and they kissed. Dakota's eye brow raised slightly and thought to herself, "_huh, interesting_." She guessed it made sense. She felt someone place a hand on her arm and she turned. Monroe's eyes were concentrating on her and they were bright.

"You look amazing."

She smiled. "Thank you, Bass." There was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips before he looked over her shoulder to their company. Dakota turned around and sent a kind smile to the two men in uniform and the woman, who was also dressed very nice. Dakota felt Monroe place a hand around her waist and her face warmed up.

"Jeremy Baker, Tom and Julia Neville, this is Dakota Pierce." Dakota took turns shaking everyone's hands.

"So," Tom Neville began, "your the one who has been helping to get rid of the filth from the Republic."

"I guess so, yes."

"I myself and Many other people owe you thanks."

"I appreciate that but it's not necessary."

"You have helped the Republic gain more control in the past two weeks than it has in two months. That's impressive." Julia nodded her head in agreement to what her husband said.

"I heard you used to be one of them, yes?" Baker inquired. Dakota knew what he was hinting at.

"Is that _all_ you've heard?" Dakota countered with a grimace.

"Well, I also heard you beat the shit out of one of the training Officers." Some eyebrows were raised and attentions were caught. All eyes were on her.

"Let's just say you don't want to get on my bad side and leave it at that." She said smiling smugly at man. And so, the subject was dropped and they began talking like they were all old friends. There was laughter and joking and Dakota had to admit that she was enjoying herself.

Dakota listened to Neville drone on about some experience that happen not long after the blackout when something caught her eye. Dakota peered up and saw something gleam through the dark night. There was movement on the roof top directly across from them. Dakota watched as a figure crouched down and then saw the gleam again, a reflection. Something told Dakota that someone should not be on top of that roof. As she stared harder, she saw the gleam again and it hit her; she had seen that kind of reflection before. Someone was looking through a rifle scope. And that someone was pointing the rifle right in her direction. She immediately thought of Monroe's safety.

Just as Dakota made the hasty decision to shove Monroe out of the way, a gun shot rang out. Everything went silent for a moment then pandemonium struck. People ran, not exactly knowing where to go. She felt Monroe cling onto her and then another shot rang out and there was blood. Her blood. The pain shot up through her arm an instant later and it spread throughout her whole body. Dakota cried out in agony and clutched her left arm. Hot, sticky liquid leaked in between her fingers and dripped onto the ground. She lost all feeling in her legs and couldn't stand. Monroe caught her before she could hit the ground. All of a sudden, more gunshots rang out but they were not from the figure on the roof. Militia men had grabbed their own firearms and started to shoot at the rooftop. She heard Miles yelling orders at the men to go chase the shooter down.

Dakota looked towards the ground where she had just been standing. There, lodged in the pavement, was a bullet. A bullet that was nit meant for Monroe, but for her. The wound kept sending waves of intense pain up Dakota's arm and she shuddered in Monroe's arms. She could hear him calling her name, asking her if she was okay but it was all distant. Her mind was shutting down and her vision was fading. She felt Monroe lay her on the ground and he held her face in his hands. She saw his mouth moving but couldn't make out what he was saying. All of a sudden there was another wave of pain and the last thing that Dakota remembered, was the concern that grew in those blue eyes. The concern and the anger.

* * *

Dakota sat at the table in the office, staring out the window. It was about mid afternoon with the sun high in the sky and no clouds were visible. Dakota wore a sleeveless blue blouse tucked into a pair of dark skinny jeans. The blouse revealed the white bandage that covered stitches. It had been two days now since she'd been shot. They still had not caught whoever had done it. It was obvious that she was the intended target.

For these past two days, Monroe would not let Dakota leave their room. He was concerned and she understood that but she couldn't be cooped up in the room forever. She had finally convinced him to let her come out but on his terms. She needed to either be with him or have guards with her at all times. So now she sat in the office as Miles and Monroe stood over the table looking at a map, discussing who knows what. Dakota wasn't really listening. She just stared out the window and couldn't help but wonder if her would be assassin was looking at her through his scope right now. Although, for some reason, she didn't feel the need to move away from the window.

Someone cleared their throat and Dakota's attention was drawn away from the window. Both Miles and Monroe were staring at her. She furrowed her brows at them. "What?" She said. Miles raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"I asked you what you think, but clearly you weren't listening." Dakota sighed and looked down at her lap.

"I'm sorry. I just," Dakota was cut off by a knock on the door.

"What?" Monroe asked sounding annoyed. They all looked over at the door as it opened up. A militia soldier walked in and saluted before speaking.

"Generals. I have news regarding the shooting incident."

"Go on." Monroe said, clearly anxious.

"We have captured a man who we believe to have made the attempt on Ms. Pierces' life. He is in an interrogation cell as we speak."

"Why aren't you interrogating him to find out if her is actually the one?" Monroe said taking a step closer to the soldier.

"W... Well because he has asked to see someone."

"Who?" Miles asked impatiently.

"Someone by the name of William Washington, Sir."

Dakota's eyes widened slightly as the familiar alias was mentioned. Miles glanced at Dakota but she did not look back. She sat where she was and felt her heart rate speed up. All rebels knew that name but only a select few knew who the name belonged to. No, not a few; only two people knew. Two people who were once her closest friends but now... now, she guessed, they were her enemies.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Alright folks! This is it! The fourth and final part to this story. I want to thank all of the people who have read and kept up with my slow pace. I am very proud to call this story my own and am a little saddened that it is the end but I hope that you all enjoy this ending. Thank you again!_**

**_-Dakota Lyon_**

*9 years after the blackout*

"I'll talk to him."

"No." Monroe quickly responded.

"Bass, I have to talk to him."

"He _shot_ you." The anger rose in his voice. She shook her head and stood up.

"I know he did but,"

"He tried to kill you and that doesn't concern you? He is one of those bastards that are trying to ruin everything this Republic has become! He is trying to rid of one of the best chances we have to actually take it all back into control." Dakota stood puzzled for a minute. Was he... was he only concerned for her life because of what she was doing for the Republic? Is that all he cared about? The Republic? Dakota pushed the sad possibility to the back of her mind.

"Just let me have five minutes with him. He's more likely to talk to me than anyone else around here." Dakota looked at Monroe with pleading eyes but he wasn't convinced. He shook his head and was about to argue again but Miles spoke up before he had the chance.

"I'll go with her." Dakota and Monroe looked over at Miles at the same time. Dakota didn't need an escort but if it was her only chance to speak with the prisoner, then she would have to go along with it.

"No, if anyone were to go with her it would be me." Bass said. "And I won't."

"Yeah because you'd probably shoot the guy before he even gets a chance to speak." He was right. Monroe was too angry to think logically. He wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet right in the mans brain.

"Our men will interrogate him then."

"Dakota's right, Bass. He's not gonna talk to anyone, no matter how hard they beat him. If he dies, then we won't gain anything." Monroe looked from Miles, to Dakota and then back to Miles. He let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, go with her." He finally caved. Dakota was screaming yes on the inside but kept her composure on the outside. Miles started to walk towards the door, following the militia soldier who had been standing there this whole time, completely forgotten. Dakota walked to Monroe and placed a hand on his arm.

"Thank you." She could tell he did not want her to go and when she walked past him, she was surprised that he didn't stop her. Dakota walked next to Miles as they followed the soldier to the interrogation cells. They walked down cement stairs into a dank basement where several solid metal doors were closed and locked. Dakota's heart skipped a beat and she grew nervous with anticipation. The soldier stopped in front of one of the metal doors and took keys from his pocket. As he was unlocking the door, Dakota pulled Miles aside. "You need to let me go in there alone."

"Not going to happen." He said without hesitation.

"Miles, he can't hurt me. He's absolutely defenseless in there."

"You'd be surprised what someone can do with their bare hands." Dakota's stomach plummeted. If he was trying to scare her, he was doing a damn good job at it.

"He's not going to talk with you there. Look, give me ten minutes alone with him. After that, you can be there with me." Miles looked like he was battling himself. He shook his head and sighed.

"Ten minutes? What happened to five?"

"Miles." She said seriously.

He sighed. "Ten minutes." Dakota gave him a small smile and nod. She turned and walked over to the metal door where the soldier was waiting to open it. Miles nodded at the soldier and he pulled the heavy door outwards. The metal groaned on it hinges as it opened. Dakota walked in and the door was shut behind her. She looked up and saw the figure sitting on the dirty cot. His arms rested on his leg, his head bent towards the dirt floor. A barred window let in some sunlight so she could see him. He looked up at her and Dakota felt a hard lump grow in her throat.

"Adam?" Her voice sounded small and pathetic. Adam looked like he had been through hell; his clothing was tattered with blood and mud stains that were also in his blonde hair. He had bruises on his face. He no longer wore that infectious smile. He only looked at her through expressionless eyes, no emotion played on his face. He made no effort to move from where he sat.

"Dakota." Hearing him say her name almost broke her heart. "Or should I say William Washington." Bitterness stung his voice. "You look well for a dead man."

"You thought I was dead?" She knew the question was stupid but she didn't know what else to say. Adam looked at her darkly.

"What the hell was I supposed to think!" He exclaimed softly but angrily. "You were taken by one of the Generals of the Republic and your working for the rebels. I'm surprised they didn't shoot you in your shop." Dakota felt like everything he said stabbed her in her gut because he was right. She should have died that day. "So when the rebel camps all started to go down, one by one, I got to thinking. There was no possible way the Republic could do that much damage in such an impressive amount of time." he lifted a finger and pointed it at her, "unless they had someone telling them exactly what they needed to know. That someone being you." Tears stung her eyes and Dakota had trouble getting her next words out.

"Adam... I,"

"Who is it?" He asked, cutting her off. Dakota furrowed her brows at him.

"What?"

"Which one?"

Dakota shook her head in confusion. "What are you asking?" Adam let out a short laugh and grinned. The grin was filled with spite and disgust.

"Which General are you in love with? Matheson or Monroe?" In that instant, tears that had threatened to spill were gone. They were were replaced by a fast heart beat and disbelief. It obviously showed on her face because Adams grin widened and he stood up. "Come on Dakota. I found the old journals hidden in the attic of the shop."

"Old journals?" Dakota asked, taking a step closer to him.

"Your old military journals. I know everything." The cloud in her mind evaporated as she remembered her old diaries she had written when she served in the Marines. She had written down almost anything and everything in them. Dakota crossed her arm and found the strength in her voice.

"Then you already know that I'm in love with General Monroe. I always have been." The grin was wiped from Adams face.

"Dakota, the man you fell in love with in the Marines is not the man who lives and breaths today." Dakota was taken aback.

"That's not true." She denied his claim. Adam scoffed and shook his head.

"So, you chose that murderer over us? The people who have been loyal to you for so many years now? The people who actually loved you the most?" The tears were back.

"I'm sorry, Adam." She choked out.

"No, Dakota. You know what you really are? A traitor. A turncoat." Dakota's mouth hung open slightly and a single tear fell from her eye. "Do you know how much blood is on your hands now? No? Well I'll tell you. Too much." Dakota hadn't realized how close he had gotten to her. He stood not even an arms length away.

"So you are the one who shot me then?" Dakota asked quietly, looking up into his brown eyes. Adam glanced at the bandage on her arm and then met her eyes again. He nodded his head in silence. Dakota lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she felt the bile rise in her throat. He came to Philly to kill her. The worst part is, she was sure he didn't feel any remorse over it. And She knew exactly why? Guilt hit her like a wrecking ball. She realized that he was right. She was responsible for the deaths of so many innocent people. Rebel or not, they were all innocent. All of their blood stained her red. She had done these terrible things and how had she not felt this awful guilt before? The tears started to flow down her face now. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Now you understand why I attempted to do what I did?" Dakota did not look at him as she nodded. She heard him sigh, "Good. Now I can finish what I've come here to do." Dakota whipped her head up to look at him. She heard the click of a blade and she barely had time to react. Adam swung the stitch blade at her and she jumped back but not far enough. The blade sliced her stomach superficially and she lost her balance, falling in her backside. She clutched her stomach as blood stained her blue blouse. She had managed to sit up and she looked up at Adam who stood over her, the blade looking evil with her blood on its surface. "I have to do this." Dakota looked at him with pleading eyes but his face turned to rage as he made to stab her. Dakota closed her eyes and screamed 'No!' The metal door flew open. Two gunshots rang out and then silence.

Dakota opened her eyes and looked up at Adam. He stood there, his face blank. The blade fell from his hands as he started to sway. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth and he fell to the ground. Dakota's cheeks were tear stained and her mouth hung open in shock. She swiveled her head to look back at the doorway. Miles stood there, gun still at firing position. He stared at Adam for a few more seconds and then he turned his attention to Dakota. He holstered his gun and dropped to his knees next to her. Dakota looked down at her bloody hand that held the wound. Miles gently lifted her hand and muttered "Jesus" underneath his breath.

"I'm fine." Dakota said in a scratchy voice.

"No, your not." Miles placed her hand back down on the wound. "Keep pressure on it." Then he hooked one arm under her knees and behind her back and picked her up bridal style. The movement sent pain through her abdomen and she let out a small cry. "You just can't catch a break, can you?" Dakota stifled a laugh, which made the wound hurt.

"Guess not." Dakota shut eyes and kept pressure on her wound. It seemed like forever until they reach the infirmary. Miles gently set her down on one of the hospital like beds, which was propped up. Dakota leaned back and waited as Miles got a doctor. A moment later, the doctor, with a nurse in tow, walked over to Dakotas bedside.

"It's alright. You can remove your hand now." He reassured her? Dakota nodded her head slightly and moved her bloody hand to the side. The doctor peeled the fabric of her shirt away to get a better look. "Well, the good news is that it doesn't look like your going to need stitches."

"And the bad news?" Miles asked.

"That sucker is gonna take a little while to heal." She was okay with that. "Do you mind taking your shirt off for me Ms. Pierce?" Dakota looked at the doctor with a raised eyebrow and gave him a skeptical look. The doctor only laughed and said, "it's only to see the wound better, dear." Dakota gave him wry smile and unbuttoned her blouse. The blood, like glue, made the fabric stick to her skin so she carefully peeled it away. Sitting now in just her bra and jeans, She threw the shirt at Miles and he caught it.

"A token of my appreciation."

Miles gave her a shrug. "I saved your life and this is my reward," he said indicating her shirtless torso. "It's a pretty damn good reward." Dakota smiled but did not feel the need to laugh. How could she laugh? There was nothing to laugh about in this whole situation. The doctor began to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and it burned immensely. Dakota's fingers grabbed the white bed sheet and strangled it as she gritted her teeth. When the doctor was done, she looked down at the wound which had stopped bleeding for the most part. Someone burst through the door and everyone in the room looked up immediately.

Monroe stood at the doorway looking frantic. "What happened?" He asked, his voice angry. He walked farther into the room but Miles grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey," Miles said calmly. Monroe looked at the bloody shirt in Miles' hand and then over to Dakota. The wound was clean but it did look quite harsh.

"What the hell happened!" His exclaimed, his voice getting louder with each word.

"I let her go in alone." Miles said. Monroe looked at Miles, slack-jawed and eyebrows knitted together.

"You what?"

"For five minutes," he lied, "I let her go in the cell by herself." At first there was no reaction. Then, all hell broke loose. Monroe's fist slammed into the side of Miles' face. Miles stumbled back, dazed. Monroe went in for another blow but Miles caught the fist and kicked Monroe in the chest, sending him to the floor.

"Stop it!" Dakota screamed. But it was no use. Monroe had managed to knock Miles on the ground with him with the swift movement of his feet. The two tussled on the infirmary floor, punching, jabbing elbows and knees. "Sebastian! Miles!" She yelled again. The two men had completely zoned everything out. Dakota, frustrated, looked around the room for something useful. The doctor and the nurse stood next to Dakota's bed, watching. Obviously, they wouldn't be of any help. There was a large metal bowl of water sitting on the table next to the bed. "How cold is this water?" She asked the doctor.

"Cold." he answered. Dakota grabbed the bowl, swung her feet over the side of the bed, which was rather painful, and dumped the ice cold water on the two. They were obviously not expecting it because both pushed away from each other and looked up at her with water dripping from their hair.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you two!?" She felt that all of the pent up rage and sadness and guilt she had was going to explode out of her at that moment. She took a deep breath and set the bowl down on the bed before she could throw it at one of them. "I went in that cell on my own because I wanted to. It wasn't Miles' fault." She said to Monroe. "No one could have known that he had a knife with him." Both men looked at each other as if they had thought of something. "What?" She asked annoyed. Miles looked back at her.

"Except maybe the guard outside the cell." he said. Dakota dropped her gaze to the floor as she thought about this. She guessed it made sense. She looked up and watched as the two men helped each other stand up. Water dripped down their faces and their uniform coats were soaked. Monroe ran a hand through his wet curls and looked at Miles.

"Find the guard. Kill him."

Dakota's eyes widened and her chest felt heavy. He might have helped Adam but he didn't deserve to die. If he did, she felt like that would be one more life on her hands. Dakota pushed off the edge of the bed and tried to stand but she ended up bending over and using the bedside table as a support. "No. You can't."

"Ms. Pierce, you shouldn't be standing." The Doctor recommended.

"Dakota, sit down." Miles added.

"Shut up." She snapped and looked to Monroe. "Bass, don't kill him. This is only a scratch. I'm still alive." Even though it didn't feel like a scratch. Monroe looked like he was considering the request. Without taking his eyes off of her, he spoke.

"And soon, he won't be. Miles, find the guard and have him executed immediately." His voice was assertive as he said this. Dakota sent a pained expression his way but he looked away.

"Just like that?" She asked him. He looked back up at her.

"He helped another man in trying to murder you!"

"He wasn't the one who held the blade!"

"He's just as guilty as the man who shot you! The one who tried to rid the one good thing this Republic has. We have gained back too much control and we are so close. I can't let anything or anyone get in the way of this." Dakota couldn't believe her ears. This was the second time she heard him say something like this. His concern for the Republic. Not her. Dakota's heart sank to the bottom of her chest as she came to this revelation. Suddenly, she felt very used. She had been nothing but a mere instrument for the gain of power. She wanted to cry and scream. And run. Run away from everything. She looked away and slowly sat back down on the bed. Adam had been right. The man who lived and breathed before her was not the man she had fallen in love with in the Marines. He was a stranger who was obsessed with power. "Do it, Miles." Was all he said before leaving the room.

* * *

Dakota woke to the sun shining through the balcony doors. She opened her eyes slowly and peered up at the ceiling. It was the same bleak white it has been since she started to sleep here. Usually, she woke up to an empty bed; Monroe already gone to do whatever he needed to do. However, this morning she found him fast asleep next to her. He lay on his stomach with his bare back to the ceiling, his head turned towards her, arms wrapped around the pillow. His hair was mussed and his breathing was steady.

Funny how people look so harmless when they sleep. Dakota stared at the man she had confessed to love just four days ago in a prison cell. Only, the fact of the matter is, the man she loved was not the man who slept so peacefully next to her. The man she had fallen for was long gone. The Sebastian Monroe, who had befriended her, saved her life, loved her back, had left and been replaced by someone who only cared about power and the vision to take over a whole continent. Sea to shining sea. It only took her two near death experiences and help from her attempted assassin to make her realize that.

Dakota shook her head silently and sat up slowly. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up. She walked over to the mirror and lifted up her tank. Over the past four days, The wound had healed fine and all was left was a jagged scab. No doubt it would leave a scar. She tugged the tank back down and started to unwind the bandage from her arm. The stitches had been removed and the bullet wound was almost healed. For the most part she was physically healthy. But on the inside, she was breaking down. Even though Monroe had not asked her to do anything these past couple of days, she knew he would ask her soon. Or in other words, get back to helping him murder people and destroy more rebel camps.

She felt two hands being placed on hips and heat enveloping her from behind. "Your awake." She did not take her eyes off of her arm when she spoke to him.

"I was surprised to see you were still here this morning."

"I had a late night." Monroe said taking one of his hands off her hip and pinching the bridge of his nose. Dakota smiled absently.

"Doing what? Drinking from the bottle and staring at a map of the Republic all night?" She heard him stifle a laugh and he dropped the hand from his face. She looked up from her arm and into the mirror as he smiled back at her. It mad her heart skip a beat. That smile. She hadn't seen it in a long time. But even still, it didn't make a difference. Just one smile does not mean the man wearing it is who you think he is. He bent his head and kissed her by the corner of her mouth.

"Something like that." He said softly. His other hand dropped from her hip and walked over to one of the dressers. "I see your standing straight now." Dakota nodded as she turned her head to watch him open the drawer and reach in it. He pulled something out.

"I've pretty much healed up," she said trailing off her sentence when she saw what he held in his hand. It was a small hand gun in a holster that look like it strapped onto the thigh. He looked up and saw her staring at it. He walked back over to her and held it out for her to take. When she made no motion to take it, he took her hand and placed it in her palm.

"I thought that it was about time that I gave you one if these." Dakota's fingers curled around the gun in its holster and he took his hand away. It was a Colt .45 automatic pistol. She had owned one of these before the blackout.

"What do you expect me to do with it? Go around and shooting whoever I feel like?" Because that would just make all her problems disappear. She glanced up at him.

"Do whatever you want with it. All I want is for you to wear it or have it on you at all times." He said before turning and walking into the bathroom. Dakota's eyes shifted back down to the gun. She would wear it like he asked but she made a silent vow to herself to never fire a bullet from it.

* * *

Dakota had dressed in dark jeans, a white blouse underneath a black blazer and black heels. The pistol strapped to her thigh. Now in the office, she leaned back in the wooden chair as she scanned a map that used to be in her old bookshop. She looked over the familiar scribbles of her handwriting. Footnotes covered the margins of the map and the sloppy X's marked the locations of rebel camps. She made mental notes of what camps were already rid of. One X stood out to her. She new the location well and knew all of its strengths and weaknesses. It was a rather large rebel camp; they set up shop in an abandoned nursing home, fully stocked with weapons and about 150 men and women ready to fight. Dakota laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. She devised her plan.

Several minutes later, Monroe, Miles and an Officer who was in charge of the next attack, all stood around her as she explained how things would go. "See this X right here? It's one of the much smaller encampments. Possibly no more than forty men and hardly any weapons and munitions. It's a pretty easy target. Just flank them from both sides and you should be in and out in fifteen minutes or less." The lie rolled smoothly off of Dakota's tongue as if she did it for a living. She looked up at the men and they all seemed convinced.

"Alright, you know what do to." Monroe said to the Officer.

"Yes, Sir." He replied before leaving the room. Dakota stood and pushed in her chair.

"Where are you going?" Miles asked. Dakota glanced outside where the sun was shining and then smiled back at Miles.

"To get some fresh air. Y'know, now that I don't have to worry about anyone shooting at me." She walked around the table and strode towards the door. "Feel free to come find me if you need me." She said over her shoulder before exiting the room. Dakota walked out of Independence Hall and stood in the fresh air for a little while. The sun was warm and she enjoyed the feeling because for the past few days all she felt was cold. She walked down the marble steps, her heels clicking on the stone. She walked around the old buildings and down different alleyways, trying to lose herself. She walked around aimlessly until she found herself staring at a stable in a small field. She watched from a distance as men led horses in and out of the huge stable doors. Curious, Dakota wandered over the the ancient looking building.

As she got closer, the smell of hay and manure grew stronger. The smell, however, did not drive her away. She entered the stable and smiled as she saw a dozen horse heads hanging over the stall doors, feasting on whatever food was put in their troughs. Dakota walked up to the closest stall and stroked the mane of the golden brown horse. She smiled when the horse acknowledged her presence by nudged her shoulder with his nose. "Now, what might your name be, hm?"

"Ranger." A voice from the entrance said. Dakota turned her head and spotted the source. A boy, who looked to be maybe nineteen or twenty, stood holding the reins of a horse. He was handsome for a younger boy, short dark hair, tan skin and a big smile. Ranger nudged Dakota again and this time she stumbled. The boy laughed and proceeded to walk into the stable, leading the horse to its stall. "He likes you." Just as he said this, Ranger nudged her again. This time, she did not stumble and she stroked his head in response.

"I think he was a little jealous that the attention wasn't on him." Dakota said, as she cast a sideways glance at the boy who had successfully put the horse in its stall.

"Yeah, that pretty much describes him in a nut shell." The boy took the reins off the horse and hung them up before walking over to Dakota. He extended his hand to her and she shook it. When she looked down at his wrist, the capital M was clearly visible on his skin. "I'm Jason." Dakota looked back up at his face as he introduced himself.

"Dakota." She smiled and they released each others hands.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Dakota looked around the stable and how immaculate and clean it was. "So Jason, do you take care of these horses yourself?"

"From time to time. It's not exactly my responsibility but I like to do it."

"Let me guess. It's to get away from the craziness out there?" She asked, pointing her thumb over her shoulder to the entrance of the stable. Jason gave her a meaningful smile and nodded.

"Yeah. It's a nice get away." Dakota had only known this boy for barely five minutes and she had already taken a liking to him.

"Which is your fastest horse?" She asked. Jason walked over and stood next to her, reaching a rather large, calloused hand up to stroke the horses neck.

"Your petting him at the moment." Dakota looked from Jason back to the horse. She stared at her own reflection in the animals large glassy eyes. "But judging by the way your dressed," he paused to look at her heels, "you weren't planning on riding, were you?" Dakota shook her head.

"Not today." she said patting the horse. Then she added quietly, "But hopefully I will soon."

"Jason." A stern voice said. Dakota and Jason looked over to the entrance of the stable and there stood Tom Neville. He didn't look like the happiest person but as he noticed Dakota, the frown was replaced with a smile. A fake one, that is. "Ms. Pierce. It's good to see you again. Are you feeling better?" Dakota returned the smile as she responded.

"Yes, I am. Thank you, Tom." He gave her a slight nod of his head and as he turned his attention back to Jason, the smile vanished from his face.

"What are you doing in here, boy?" Dakota glanced at Jason over her shoulder and he didn't seem very glad to see Tom.

"I came to help out."

"Your 'help' is needed elsewhere. They have stable hands for a reason. Now get back to where your supposed to be." Tom ordered. Jason rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

"Jason," Dakota started and waited for him to stop walking and look back at her. "It was good to meet you." She sent a warm, meaningful smile his way. Jason return the gesture.

"You too." Then he walked away. However, Tom did not follow the boy. Dakota looked at Tom as he stood there and she couldn't help but feel like he was trying to get a read on her.

"Jason is my son."

Dakota nodded. "He's a good kid." Tom did not smile like she though he would. He only raised an eyebrow and gave her a look she could only identify as skepticism.

"How would you know? You only talked to him for five minutes." Dakota was a little taken aback. She felt like she was being interrogated. Before she had the chance to speak, he asked another question: "Have you ever had kids, Ms. Pierce?" It was an odd question but she answered truthfully.

"No, I can't say that I've had the pleasure." Tom stared at her for a few more seconds before the smile returned.

"Well, I hope that someday you will. Then you can realize that there is no such thing as a 'good kid.'" He paused for a moment before adding, "Good day, Ms. Pierce." He turned on his heels and walked away. Dakota, who didn't realize she was holding her breath, let a huge gust of air out._ What the hell was that all about?_ She felt a nudge in the middle of her back and turned around. Ranger stared back at her with his huge dark brown eyes. She brought her forehead and rested it against his.

"I have to go but I will be back soon. I promise." She patted the horse once before before heading back to Independence Hall. She found her way back easily and was walking down one of the many halls of the building. She rounded a corner and as she walked on, she couldn't help but get the uneasy feeling of someone watching her. She slowed her pace slightly and cast a glance over her shoulder. No one was there. She shook her head and thought she was just being paranoid. She started to walk again but this time she heard faint footsteps behind her. They were in perfect sync with her; she would speed up, so would they. She would slow down and they imitated. Finally she stopped walking and turned around to face her stalker.

No one.

The hallway was empty. Dakota pressed a palm to her forehead and took a deep breath. She was definitely paranoid or going crazy. She took another deep breath before she decided to turn around again. Suddenly, rough, strong hands shoved her and her back hit the wall so hard, it knocked the wind out of her. She never got the chance to double over because those same hands that pushed her, wrapped around her throat and kept her pinned to the wall. Dakota's hands instinctively reached up and tried to pry the strangling ones away. She looked into the face that belonged to those hands. Dakota's eyes widened with fear and shock as she stared at the familiar face. It was the officer who she had roughed up about two weeks ago. His nose was now crooked slightly and his eyes were filled with rage.

"Hello, rebel whore." He growled malevolently. His face was so close to hers that she could smell the stale alcohol on his breath. "Remember me?"

"How could I forget?" She said mockingly but her voice was raspy. His grip tightened ever so slightly, which caused her to wince and her own grip on his hands get harder. This could not be happening. So many attempts on her life had been made in the past week. How could she not see this coming? A lightbulb went off. The pistol. She did not dare glance down at it because so far, the drunk man did not notice it. She remembered the vow she made earlier but this situation didn't look like it would have a good outcome.

"Still got that tongue, I see. I should have cut it out when I had the chance."

"Oh please, you barely laid a finger on me." He made a deep guttural noise and slammed her back into the wall, her head hitting hard. She had closed her eyes briefly afterwards and when she opened them again her vision was slightly blurred. She gritted her teeth and waited for the dizziness to go away.

"I heard you got shot. Then not even five days later you got attacked with a blade. And yet, here you are. Seems like you've got nine lives." Dakota actually smirked when he said that because it was quite accurate. "I would wipe that smile off your face, sweetheart. Because I'm afraid what's left of your nine lives is up." His grip started to tighten and that was her cue to go for the gun. She reached down, grabbed the grip and lifted it up towards his chest. But before she could even get a shot off, the officer grabbed her wrist, keeping his other hand around her throat so she stayed against the wall. She struggled to get her wrist from his grip but he twisted her arm and her hand could no longer hold the pistol. It fell to the ground and he kicked it away.

_Perfect! Just perfect!_ She screamed mentally. He replaced his hand on her throat and She thrashed against him, using her whole body, to try to get out of his grip. She tried again to pry his hands away. It was no use. She could barely breath and his hold was constricting her like a snake.

"I know your secret." He whispered eerily in her face. She was staring at him but his face appeared double. "I know your still working for the rebels. You have an informant somewhere here. You tell them everything, don't you?" Dakota shook her head vigorously. He smashed her back into the wall and she blacked out for a second. When her vision came back, everything was fuzzy and she could only make out the shape of the officers head. Her chest felt heavy from lack of oxygen. Her hands that gripped his grew weak. "They are all too blind to see it but I know. I know!" Dakota couldn't believe this was it. She was seriously going to die by the hands of a drunk man who she managed to piss off. Her head lulled to the side and she saw figures, people, at the end of the hallway. They were just passing by but it was her only hope. She began smacking her hand against the wall but it didn't seem to work. She then took what little breath she had left and screamed.

The figures stopped walking and turned their heads. The officer looked caught off guard and didn't know what to do. She was going to live! The figures started running towards them and Dakota recognized one of them as Miles. He was coming to save her life, again. "No! I'm so close! You must die!" The officer exclaimed. His grip got even stronger and Her body couldn't handle it. Her vision faded and she closed her eyes. Maybe she had spoken too soon.

Suddenly, the pressure around her throat vanished and she fell to the floor, taking a gulp of air. She kept her eyes closed as she sat against the wall, taking in air and coughing it back out. She rested a hand on her chest and felt her unsteady heartbeat.

"No! You can't trust her! Let me go! She is against all of you! She's still working for them!" The officer yelled. She stopped coughing and Dakota opened her eyes slightly and saw the officer being held back by two militia soldiers. Dakota felt a hand on her shoulder and she rolled her head to the side. Miles, who had crouched down next to her, looked at her with a grave expression, waiting for her to say something. She gave him a lazy smile.

"My hero." She watched as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, the officer was still yelling.

"Don't fall for her act! She's lying to all of you!" Miles turned his head and looked up at the man.

"Would you shut the hell up already?

The officers mouth snapped closed and he looked as if he was biting his cheek to keep himself from talking. Miles looked back at Dakota. "Are you okay? Can you stand?" She nodded her head.

"Yes and yes to the second one if you help me." She hooked her arm around his shoulders and he hoisted her up onto her feet. She waited a second before she could stand on her own.

"Alright let's go. Bring him." Miles told the soldiers. They nodded in response to the command. Miles placed a hand on Dakotas back and they started to walk.

"Where are we going exactly?"

"You'll see." Dakota could hear the officer struggling in the grip of the two soldiers. They made they're way to the office and Miles slammed the door open. Monroe looked up from whatever he was doing at his desk and looked up at them immediately. His brows furrowed as the officer being held by the two other men entered the room.

"What the hell is this?" Annoyance dripped from his voice.

"Officer Hawkins here has something to tell you." Miles said, looking over to the drunk man. His eyes widened as he looked from Miles to Monroe. Dakota's pulse raced as she was thinking how stupid Miles was. Why would he have him tell Monroe what he was saying? That is the last person she wanted to get suspicious of her. Monroe leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap expectantly. "Well, get on with it." Miles urged.

"This woman," he said pointing to Dakota. "She cannot be trusted! She has been lying to everyone! She is not who she says she is!" He said wildly. Monroe's gaze slowly moved from Hawkins to Dakota. She met his stare and could not fathom what he was thinking. She swallowed hard before his eyes went back to the Officer.

"Is that so?" He asked coolly. The officer nodded his head quickly.

"Yes, yes! She is still with the rebels. She works for them! I'm sure of it! She is rebel scum." He spat on the floor and sent a glowering look her way. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm herself down. Monroe lifted an eyebrow and stared at the spot on the floor where Hawkins had just spit. Miles just looked disgusted.

"Do you have any proof?" Everyone stared at the officer, waiting for him to present something plausible. His mouth hung open slightly and it took him several tries to speak.

"Well... I mean... I just... She's a rebel! She always will be! Isn't that proof enough?" He asked frantically. Monroe shook his head and stood up. He sent an icy stare in the Officers direction and then it settled on Dakota. She held her breath until he answered.

"No." His eyes shifted down to her neck and they squinted slightly. "What happened?" She guessed that her skin had already begun to bruise. She reached up and touched the tender surface.

"He tried to strangle her." Miles said. Monroe walked around his desk and walked over to Dakota. He lifted her chin up and examined her throat. He brought her chin back down and made her look at him.

"Is that true?"

She nodded slightly and looked away. "Yes."

"Where's the gun?" Dakota looked down at the empty holster.

"He knocked it out of my hand when I tried to grab it." Monroe looked over his shoulder at the officer. "Listen, I'm fine. Miles was there and he stopped him." Monroe glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"Are you trying to defend this man?" He asked. Her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes darted to the officer. She shook her head slowly.

"No, I'm not. But,"

With one swift motion Monroe grabbed his gun from his holster and shot the officer right in the forehead. Dakota let out a small shriek and covered her open mouth with both hands. She stared wide-eyed at the now dead Officer on the floor. Blood had already begun to pool around his head and his eyes stared up towards the ceiling. Miles' expression turned from shock to emotionless as he stared at the dead man. Monroe holstered his gun and turned back to Dakota. Her eyes darted from the dead man to Monroe.

"There's one less person you don't have to worry about killing you." He said callously. She was too shock stricken to say anything to him. Monroe turned away from her and began to walk towards the door. As he passed by Miles he said, "Make sure this mess is cleaned up by the time I get back." He reached the door, opened it and closed it silently behind him.

* * *

Dakota burst through the door and stumbled out onto the roof. She closed it behind her and leaned back against it. She covered her face with shaking hands and felt the wet tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked up to the sky and breathed in the fresh air. She needed to get out of that room, away from the sight. The scene replayed back in her head and she shook it to get rid of the images. She pushed off from the door and walked over to the edge of the roof. She rested her hands on the concrete edge and looked at the city. As she scanned the vastness, she had come to a conclusion:

She needed to leave.

She needed to get away from everything she'd gotten involved in. She had been stupid and naive to think that staying here was a good thing. She had been blinded. Blinded by the love she had for a man who was no longer. She had told Miles that she could be the one to keep something like power going to their heads. She had been wrong; the power had already gone to Monroe's head. It was all he cared about and as long as he was here, it's all he would care about. He may be concerned for her safety but it wasn't for the right reasons.

She sighed and bent her head down. She looked at her blouse and saw a small red dot on the white cloth. Her eyes welled slightly and she closed them tight. The door clicked open behind her and she looked up and over her shoulder. Miles stepped out onto the roof and spotted her. He stood by the door, his hand still on the knob. "What are you doing up here, Kody?" He asked calmly. She shook her head and looked back out at the city.

"I just needed some air, that's all."

"So, I don't have to worry about you jumping off the roof?" Dakota let out a small, choked laugh.

"Well since so many people want me dead, I would probably be doing them a favor." She heard the door close and Miles walked over and stood beside her.

"We could have only anticipated this happening. People are going to get suspicious."

"Right," she responded absently.

"Dakota." Miles said quietly and she turned her head to look at him. "What happened... It was done in the best interest for you."

"You sure about that?" Miles thought about the question for a minute or two and looked out over Philly.

"No." He stood next to her for another moment before turning to leave. She did not watch him as he left. Though before he closed the door behind him he said, "Just," a pause, " don't do anything rash." The door closed behind him and she was alone once again.

She stayed out on the roof for the rest of the evening. All she thought of was how to get out of the city undetected for the longest amount of time possible. She thought of Philly's map, its entire layout, in her head. She knew about the tunnels but she also knew that there were land mines in there. She had no clue where each individual one was buried so that plan was out. Plus, she planned on taking a horse with her. She thought of the stable and what lay around it. There wasn't too much security around it and the only people she had to worry about were the stable hands. She could find her way out from there. There was only one thing left: when she got out of the city, where would she go? There was only one place that they could not follow her.

Satisfied, Dakota thought it was about time to leave the roof. She took one last glimpse of Philadelphia and the setting sun behind it. She made her way back to her room. She couldn't help but keep looking over her shoulder constantly. She finally reached the room and opened the door with relief. She almost slammed the door back shut and run when she saw someone sitting in one of the arm chairs by the fireplace, which was lit. Her heartbeat calmed as her brain recognized the figure as Monroe.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I about had a heart attack." Monroe made no effort to say anything or even look at her. He just stared at the fire which cast shadows across his face. Dakota closed the door and stood there waiting for something, anything to happen. As she waited she noticed something in his hand which rested on the chairs arm. It was a gun. Her legs turned weak and her pulse sped up.

"Word came back from the troops we sent out today," he began, not taking his eyes off of the fire."you know, the men that were sent to eliminate a small rebel threat." He finally turned his head and his blue eyes look haunted. "Turns out that rebel camp wasn't so small. Although, you already knew that, didn't you?"

Yes, she did know that. But she wasn't going to tell him. She furrowed her brows and looked confused. "What the hell are you talking about? There is no way that's right."

He scoffed. "Really? You had no idea that you were sending my men into a heavily armed rebel facility?" She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head.

"No, Bass. I didn't. I must have mistaken it for a different camp, that's all. An honest mistake."

"Honest mistake." He echoed. She nodded and he looked away from her, letting out a frustrated noise.

"Bass. What are you thinking?" His eyes went back to her and he stood up from the chair, the gun in his hand. He started to walk slowly toward her.

"I don't know what to think actually. First you want to talk to the rebel who shot you. Then you try to defend the traitor that gave the knife to him. The attack on the camp failed and now someone has accused you of still being a rebel." As he walked closer to her, Dakota couldn't help but to back pedal until her back hit the wall. Monroe placed one hand against the wall by her head and leaned forward, his face close to hers. The gun stayed down by his side. "Now tell me. How does that look?"

"All of that means nothing. I made a mistake and as for those two men, I just didn't think that blood needed to be shed." She said defensively. He stood there assessing her for a moment, a hint of distrust in his eyes. He lifted the gun so that it hovered just by her cheek. Dakota's heart stopped beating, fear and panic filling every inch of her body.

"You forgot this in the hallway." She watched as he put the gun in the holster she still wore around her thigh. He then pushed away from the wall and disappeared into the bedroom. Dakota let her breath go, leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She thought about her plan. She needed to execute it. Now. Tonight.

* * *

She waited until Monroe fell asleep. She listened to the steadiness of his breathing as she lay next to him in the darkness. She slowly sat up and quietly slipped out of the bed. She already had changed into a black long sleeve and dark skinny jeans and she laced up her combat boots. She grabbed a gray charcoal colored hooded jacket and put it on. She checked the pocket to make sure the map and compass she had out in earlier were still there. She then strapped the holster onto her thigh and quietly checked the magazine of the gun.

She stopped herself before exiting the bedroom. She turned and looked at Monroe. She wanted to walk over and kiss him one last time. But she couldn't. It would just make her want to stay. She remembered what he had done earlier and that was enough to make her feet move. She made sure to close the door quietly behind her and she walked down the hall, her footsteps barely audible.

She made her way down to the kitchen as she had planned. The room was dark and still smelled of what ever had been made earlier. She crept over to the door that led outside. She cracked it open and peered out. She looked down both ends of the small alley. She decided that it was clear to move on and she closed the door and hurried down the alley. As she made her way to the stables, trying to be as invisible as possible to people on the streets. Finally, she reached the field where the stable was. She crouched down low in the tall grass and scanned the area.

Only one of the stable doors were open and there was candle light coming from inside. She hurried over to the stable and carefully leaned her back against the closed door. She leaned slightly and glanced inside. There was a man sitting on a stool facing away from her. He was hunched over, using a cloth to shine something. Quietly, she took one step at a time and crept up to the man. When she was close enough, she wrapped her arm around his throat and held it there tightly. The man began to struggle and made gasping sounds. He tried to pry her hand away but she had the advantage: just because he was bigger than her didn't mean he was stronger. The struggling started to digress and Dakota started to lower to the ground, bringing the man down with her. She knelt on her knees and when the mans movements stopped,she unwrapped her arm from around his neck. She laid the man on the ground and before she stood, she felt his pulse. It was weak but it was still there.

A small is of relief escaped from her lips. Dakota stood and walked over to Rangers stall. She opened the door and the sleeping horse awoke. He immediately stood as she walked into the stall with him. She grabbed his saddle and his bridle which she attached the reins to. She quickly saddled Ranger up, put the bridle on and made last minute adjustments. She grabbed his reins and led him outside, careful not to step on the unconscious stable hand.

She steadied Ranger just outside of the stable. She grabbed hold of the saddle, put one foot in a stirrup and hoisted herself up onto the horses back. She placed her other foot in the stirrup and grabbed hold of the reins. Dakota applied pressure to the horses left side with her inner calf and Ranger started to walk. The walking turned to a slight gallop as she urged him to move faster, with the reins, towards the wooded area behind the stable. She slowed him down as they reached the edge of the tree line. She took the compass out of her pocket to make sure her bearings were right. She tied the compass to the horn of the saddle so that she could read it whenever. As Ranger slowly moved forward into the woods, her stomach tightened with knots of nervousness. She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. Her grip tightened on the reins as she brought them down on the horses neck and Ranger took off.

Dakota didn't look back once.

* * *

Monroe woke up to loud banging on his door. He groaned with annoyance as he covered his face with his hands and shouted "What!"

"Bass, open the door!" Miles' voice sounded anxious. Monroe couldn't ignore his friend so he got out of bed and walked to the door. The room was filling with early morning sunlight. Monroe opened the door and Miles looked stricken. He pushed past the other General and hurried towards the bedroom. Monroe followed him and stood in the bedroom doorway.

"What's wrong?"

Miles turned his head slowly and looked at him. "Where's Dakota?" He asked quietly. Monroe was confused and looked back at the bed, about to answer, "she's right there" but the bed was empty and cold.

* * *

When she knew she had safely made it out of the city, she stopped near a small river and let Ranger take a rest. She walked around, loosening up her leg muscles, and stared at the map using the early morning light. She held up the compass and read it. She was headed south just as she had planned. It would take her pretty much all day to almost reach her destination. She folded the map up and shoved it back into her jacket pocket. She walked over to Ranger who was now grazing. She mounted and tied the compass back onto the horn. She grabbed the reins and gave Ranger a small kick and they were off. She didn't want to waist any time because by now, they probably knew she was missing.

* * *

Monroe burst into the office full of rage. Miles followed behind him, in a calmer state. "Where did she go?!" He asked, turning on his heels to face Miles who shook his head.

"I don't know. No one does." Miles shrugged. "She strangled the stable hand that was on duty last night but she didn't kill him. Another stable hand found him as he was coming to and told him a woman attacked him and took a horse." Bass ran a hand through his hair unkempt hair. He walked over to the table and slammed his hands down on the wood in frustration.

"She planned this. How far do you think she's gotten?"

"Well, since she has our fastest horse and the fact that it _is_ Dakota, she could be halfway across the Republic by now."

"We need to find her."

"You mean do the impossible."

"Just do it, Miles."

"And how do suggest I do that? Please enlighten me, Bass." Monroe turned around to face Miles.

"I don't care how you do, god dammit! Just do it" he exclaimed.

"And if I do manage to find her, what then?" Miles countered. Monroe looked away from his friends gaze.

"She knows too much." Miles furrowed his brows and waited for the other General to confirm what he was thinking. Monroe's gaze shifted back up to Miles as he said, "Kill her."

* * *

Dakota had ridden the whole day away and now she set up a small camp and slept underneath the stars. Although, she didn't get much sleep. The ground was uncomfortable and she woke up to every noise she heard. Finally she had managed to drift off. As morning approached, she could see the sun get brighter through her eyelids. It took effort to peel her eyes open and stand up. Ranger was already awake and grazing. She stretched and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She walked over to Ranger and caught his reins.

"It's time to go." She said softly as she pet the horses head. He nudged in response. She made sure the saddle was tight and got on his back. She checked her compass and then steered the animal in the right direction. Since she was still affected by lack of sleep, she only had Ranger walk most of the morning.

They reached another forested area and the heavy horse broke twigs and crunched leaves as they walked through the trees. Rays of sunlight broke through the canopy above and warmed the air. Dakota checked her compass and then pulled the map out of her pocket. She unfolded the map and looked at it. Once she made it out of this forest, she would only have a short distance to go. She folded the map up once again and put it away. About ten minutes later she heard the unmistakable sound of voices from a distance. She pulled back on the reins and Ranger stopped in his tracks. She sat on the horse in silence as she listened.

The voices faded away and just before she decided to turn her head to look back, a loud bang rang out. Bark from the tree beside her splintered and flew in the air. She raised her arms to protect her face. She whipped her head around and scanned the forest. She didn't see anyone. Another gun shot was fired and she wasn't too sure where it went. All she knew was that she needed to get the hell out of there. Ranger became restless, almost frantic, when the second shot went off. Dakota grabbed the reins and dug her heel into the horses side. Ranger shot off fast through the forest.

As they zipped past trees and the air rushed around her, she heard the echo of yelling. Several more gun shots had been fired but they all missed their target. She did not know how they found her so fast. They must have been traveling non stop. It was almost impossible. Dakota saw a clearing up ahead. She had been closer than she thought she was to freedom. She willed Ranger to gallop faster and he did. He burst through the tree line and she saw the tall chain linked fence in the distance. Dakota could almost see the sign hanging on the fence that read: Georgia Federation.

Just as the words came into clear view, there was a gun shot and Ranger let out a loud whinny. The horse pitched forward and Dakota was thrown off of his back, landing hard on the ground. The horse collapsed with a thud and made ferocious movements as he tried to stand back up. For Dakota, the fall had knocked the wind out of her and her shoulder felt dislocated. She lay on the ground in pain, her lungs burning as she gasped for air. As she looked over at Ranger, she could see that his hind leg had been shot through and through. The sight was gruesome and she knew that he would not be getting back up. She on the other hand, could stand.

Taking a shallow breath, she staggered to her feet, cradling her injured arm, and looked towards the tree line. Soldiers sprang out from the brush with rifles in hand. Dakota looked back down at the horse once more, whispered a small 'thank you' and then sprinted in the direction of the fence. Guns fired in her direction which only made her feet move faster. As she neared the fence, she saw a small hole in it by the ground. She aimed for it and once she was close enough, she dove for the hole. She landed on her stomach harshly, hurting her arm even more, but she kept going, dragging herself through the dust and dirt. Just as she got her torso through the hole, someone grabbed her by the ankle. The grip was strong and almost pulled her back out.

She grabbed a nearby tree root with her good arm and pulled. Dakota yanked her leg loosening the persons grip and as she kicked, her foot connected with a jaw. Someone cried out and the hand let go of her ankle. Dakota scrambled through the rest of the way, rolling onto her back. She looked up through the fence. Miles stood on the other side, holding his face in his hands. His hands lowered down to his sides and a small amount of blood trickled from his nose. They stared at each other in silence with the exception of Dakotas labored breathing. She decided to slowly stand, clutching her bad arm and not breaking eye contact with Miles.

"What are you doing, Kody?" He asked, desperation in is voice.

"I can't do it anymore Miles." She said through gasps. Miles tilted his head to the side and his face showed confusion.

"Do what?"

"Help murder hundreds of innocent people!" She exclaimed. "All of those rebel camps that I helped you destroy, with all of those people, I am responsible for their lives. There is blood on my hands, Miles and have to live with it for the rest of my life." She felt a tear slide down her cheek. She watched as Miles looked to his feet and she watched him take his gun from its holster. He raised the gun and pointed it directly at her chest. A knot formed in her throat and she shook her head. She knew she could not run fast enough to dodge his aim. "Please." She begged. "Please, Miles."

"Now you don't have to live with it at all." He fired three shots and Dakota squeezed her eyes closed and waited for the inevitable. Although, the more she waited, the longer her heart beat. She opened her eyes and saw that Miles had aimed the gun down, all three bullets buried into the earth. She stood there, her mouth hung open slightly with a mixture of surprise and shock. "You won't live with it because you will be able to start a new life. A better one." He paused before shrugging. "I'm slightly jealous." Dakota did not laugh at his dry sense of humor. She was paralyzed where she stood. He had let her live. "Dakota." He said her name with such intensity that she snapped out of her state of shock. "Go, now. Before I change my mind."

Voices from the militia soldiers came nearer. She glanced over Miles' shoulder and saw the figures running towards the fence. She knew she needed to turn and run away. She looked back to Miles, her face solemn.

"Thank you." she whispered. Miles gave her a small nod. Then she ran into the thick brush. Dakota Pierce was gone.

* * *

Miles arrived back in Philadelphia that same day. He went straight to the office where he knew he would find Monroe. As he walked into the room, Monroe looked up from his desk and stood right away.

"Is it done?" Monroe asked with anticipation. Miles walked over to the alcohol cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

"Yeah, it's done." He drank the amber liquid and felt it burn the whole way down his throat. He looked out the window before adding, "Dakota Pierce is dead."

**_*1 month later*_**

The new Georgian recruit walked into the two story library in Atlanta. He joined the Georgia Federation Army but he was absolutely clueless when it came to weapons. He started his training in two days and wanted to know a little more than the average new recruit. He thought the library would be the best place to find this information. Although, he wandered around not exactly sure where to find the answers he sought. He looked around for a librarian. As he peered down one of the many rows of tall book cases, he saw a ladder used to reach the upper shelves and as he looked up, a woman organizing books stood at the top. _She must be a librarian_, he thought to himself. He cleared his throat and she looked down at him.

He felt his face heat up as she stared at him. She was quite beautiful. Her dark curls stopped just before her shoulders and her dark brown eyes gazed at him through thick, black framed glasses. She was slender, with toned arms and long legs. She wore a white vneck underneath a black cardigan paired with dark jeans and boots. He must have been staring for too long because she raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

"Can I help you?" The sound of her voice brought him out of his trance.

"Y.. Yes." He answered, stumbling over the word. "I was wondering if you could help me find some something." She smiled and nodded.

"Sure." She climbed down the ladder and hopped off before her feet touched that last wrung. "What are you looking for?"

"Weapons." He said bluntly. She let out a small laugh and he became flustered. "I mean, I'm not looking for weapons. I'm looking for information on weapons. Reference books." The librarian crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot.

"Right. What kind of weapons are we talking about?"

"Well, uh, you see, I just got recruited."

"Ah, let me guess. And you want to get that extra one up from everyone else?" He nodded his head. "Well kid, your in luck because I know exactly where to find what you seek. Follow me." She turned on her heel and began to walk down the aisle. The boy followed her closely as she made several different turns before stopping in front of a specific shelf. Her eyes scanned the spines of the books until they stopped and she said, "Here we go." She reached up and carefully slide the book off the shelf. As she reached, the sleeve of her cardigan slid up slightly to reveal a white bandage wrapped around her wrist. Curiosity go the better of him.

"What happened?" He indicated her wrist and she looked from the book to him to her wrist. A small smile, not of happiness, crossed her face.

"Well, sometimes in life you make mistakes. This was one of them." The boy marveled at the cryptic answer she gave him. Before he could ask what she meant, she handed him the book from the shelf. "This is an encyclopedia. It goes in alphabetical order so the generic guns will be under the G's." She crouched down and picked out three more books. "These books here are all specifically on weapons." She stood and held the books out to him and when he took them, they were surprisingly heavy. "Guess I should've warned you." The boy laughed and shook his head.

"It's alright. I'm pretty tough." She smiled.

"You remind me of a boy I met once." She said. He wasn't sure if it was a compliment or she was just simply making a statement.

"What kind of person was he?" She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The good kind."

The boy nodded his head and did something the librarian did not expect. He cradled the books in one arm and extended his hand to her. She hesitated before unfolding her arms and shaking his hand with her own. "I'm William."

"William, huh? That's a nice name." She released his hand and folded her arms again. She looked back down at the books. "Well, It looks like you have a lot to do so I'll leave you to it. Feel free to use any of the available tables."

"Thank you very much." The boy turned to walk away.

"Harper." The boy stopped walking and turned to face the woman. He looked confused. "My name. Its Harper." The name came off her tongue strange and foreign.

"It was nice to meet you, Harper." The boy sent her a genuine smile and proceeded to walk down the aisle. The librarian stood where she was for a moment. She wasn't used to being called that name. She was still adjusting to hearing it, saying it, even writing it down.

Why?

Because Harper wasn't her name. She also shared the same name as the boy, William, although that wasn't correct either.

Her name was Dakota Pierce.

But Dakota Pierce was a turncoat that many people believed to be dead for weeks now. It needed to stay that way. Dakota Pierce needed to fade away, just like the memories she was still haunted by at night. She pulled up her left sleeve and stared at the white bandage. The scars of the past were permanent, she knew that all too well, but at least she could push away the memories. Lock them away and throw away the key. Dakota Pierce could be forgotten and Harper the Librarian could live on in happiness and make new memories. This was a chance to start over.

Her new life.


End file.
